Damaged Goods
by kitkat2001
Summary: When Cat moved in with her cousin Emily, she planned on starting over. What she didn't plan on was having Paul imprint on her. Can he get her to accept the imprint, or will she always just be damaged goods?
1. Preface

Paul

There are some things in life that change you completely. Events that leave you irreversibly altered, for good or for bad. They might not even seem that big at the time, but looking back they seem enormous. A friend of mine once compared it to metamorphosis. Going through a period in your life, and coming out as something new.

This is the story of my metamorphosis. It came in the form of a small peppy girl, something I had never expected. At first, I resented it. After all, who wants their entire life to be changed without so much as a warning? But now I can only be grateful, because if it weren't for her, I wouldn't be the man I am today.

This is her story too. The story of dealing with a change, even when it's bad. Accepting that you can't go back, but remembering the past anyway. A story of learning not to give up on everything just because you lost something you loved, and finding something good again, even if it's in the place you least expect it.

This is a story of healing, of dealing with the repercussions of change. A story of friendship, and helping each other get through the change. A story of the lessons she taught me, and the lessons I taught her.

She taught me to stop looking back and accept the change so that I could move on and become someone new. I taught her not to let the change control her life. She taught me to live in the moment; I taught her to believe in the future.

And maybe I didn't want it, but she turned out to be everything I needed. And maybe she tried to resist it, but it turned out to be everything she wanted. This is a story of ups and downs, with as many bumps in the road as there were sunsets. But it isn't just about ignoring the bumps. It's about feeling everything, accepting what we can't change and changing what we can.

This is our story, a story of friendship, healing, and change. And though it might not have a happy ending; I wouldn't go back for the world. Because for every broken heart and dark moment, I have her love. And that's all I need.

**This is the first chapter, please R&R, both good and bad reviews are welcome. I'm not sure how often I'll be updating, but it should be a week at most. Thanks!**


	2. Twisted Spirits

Chapter 1

Twisted Spirits

Cat

Plane rides had always seemed sort of poetic to me. The idea of flying away from your past to start something new was fascinating. Perhaps it was because the few times I had ridden in a plane I had been leaving something good behind, and this time I was finally heading to something better.

I stared out the window, willing the clouds to disperse so I could see my new home. Well, it wasn't new, but the last time I had been here was 12 years ago. It was good to be back, even if I was a completely different person. It was like a part of me had died, and maybe if I came back here I could get it back.

I'd been thinking about death a lot over the past few years. One might even go as far as to say that I've become obsessed. Not with killing myself, just the very idea of death. There are so many ways to go, so many ordinary things that could go wrong and turn fatal.

Of course, I lost the luxury of wondering how I would die a while ago. It had never been a question of if, only when. Sure, there had been a 60% chance I would live, but it was like a part of me had just stopped fighting. So even though I was 'cured', I was still just waiting to die.

That was the main reason I was moving, to get away from the constant 'adult supervision', the worried stares and hushed voices. Apparently it didn't matter that I was 19, technically an adult. I could not be trusted on my own. And if I looked at it logically, I understood why.

So of course I jumped at the chance to move in with my cousin and her fiancé. I would be around responsible adults, yet still have the freedom I had gone without for so long. I might have lied a bit, and left out a few key mental diagnostics while talking to her, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. I could look after myself; I had been for the past few years.

_Attention passengers, we will be landing in Port Angeles momentarily, please turn off all electrical items and prepare for landing._

I sighed, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window and closing my eyes. I wanted this; that much I was sure of. But that didn't stop me from being nervous. What if the familiar setting made it worse? What if Emily or Sam started to suspect that everything wasn't as perfect as I had led them to think? I couldn't go back, not to a virtually empty house and the awkward stares of those who had heard my story.

The plane hit the runway hard, jarring my head and bringing me back to reality. I couldn't be moody when I arrived at their house, then Emily would know something was up. I had insisted on taking a cab so that I could have some time to myself, but I wasn't sure if it would be enough.

I left the plane and got my luggage in a daze, still trying to focus on the bright side of my situation. I could start over here; things would be better. I hailed a cab and gave him the directions to Emily's house before closing my eyes once more.

It was important to get my story straight before I arrived. I had asked Emily not to tell anyone about my condition, so I had to act like my usual self. Hopefully it wouldn't be that hard to pretend I still loved everything. I could usually keep myself contained, and with this new chance I would be able to forget about my past, at least for a while.

As the cab pulled in front of my cousin's old white house I clutched my suitcase, making my knuckles look all the whiter. I handed the driver some money and clambered out of the vehicle, taking deep breaths and trying to recapture my usual enthusiasm. I bounced a little on the balls of my feet, feeling the excitement returning. Everything was going to be okay. I would start over here; it would be like the last few years of my life never happened.

I thrust the door open and ran into Emily's awaiting arms. "Emily!" I said excitedly, kissing her on both cheeks as I had seen the French do. It had been my newest obsession before I left, and I saw no reason to find a new one. "Bonjour cher cousin!"** Hello sweet cousin**. I had learned some basic French in the past year, there wasn't much to do when you were bed ridden all of the time.

Emily laughed and squeezed me back, but I could tell she was holding back. It wasn't like I was going to shatter if I got hugged too tightly. "Cat! It's so good to see you. And…what did you say?"

"Oh, I've been dabbling in the arts of the language that is French." I explained quickly, scanning the room for her fiancé. "Sam!" I shouted, and ran to give him a hug. I hadn't seen him in years, and I could tell he was surprised by how different I looked.

I turned around to face a line of really big, really tall, really _hot_ guys. This must be the pack. I turned back to Emily. "Ils sont tous très beau, mais n'avez-vous pas dit qu'ils sont normalement la moitié nu?" **They are all very good looking, but didn't you say they were normally shirtless?**

One of the boys laughed, and I threw him a quick smile. Emily ignored me, used to my antics. "Why don't you introduce yourself to the pack?"

I saw a few of them shift uncomfortably at the word pack. So Emily hadn't told them I knew. How was I supposed to explain why Emily had told me without giving away my secret? In the end I settled on the simplest explanation.

"Don't worry, Emily warned me about your little wolf problem before I moved. She thought it would be easiest, seeing as I'm living with her an all. I really hope I'm not intruding, but I needed a change of scenery and I don't really have that much money, so I couldn't afford to get my own place. I promise I won't get in the way, but I was hoping maybe we could all be friends. I mean, I don't want to sound too pushy, we don't have to be BFF's or anything, it's just-" Luckily Emily cut off my nervous babbling before I could embarrass myself anymore.

"Just tell them a bit about yourself Cat," she said gently, giving me an encouraging smile.

I gave a huge sigh, and decided to have a bit of fun with Emily. Nothing like being annoying to convince her that I was okay. "Fine. I am Catherine Elizabeth Young, born to Robert E. Young and Samantha A. Young on the eighteenth of May, nineteen ninety three. I-"

"Cat!" Emily interrupted, 'They don't need to hear your whole life story, just tell them the basics." I could tell by the way she clenched her fists that Emily was getting mad. _Mission accomplished._

"Sure, sure," I smiled. "I'm Cat Young, Emily's cousin. I'm 19, and I have a degree in English." I enjoyed the impressed looks I got from some of them; there was no need to tell them that it was an online college. "I lived here until I was seven, but we, my dad and I, moved away when my mom died in a car crash. I'll be staying with Emily until I can find other living arrangements." _Or not so living._ I thought wryly to myself. I wasn't going to delude myself into thinking that life would go back to normal.

As soon as I had finished Sam stepped forward and gestured towards the line of boys. "This is the pack. Of course you already know Leah and Seth-" I didn't bother to let him finish before I rushed over to Leah. It had been ages since I had last seen her, and that was before my drastic change. "It's so good to see you guys!" I said excitedly. Good to know that people other than complete strangers would treat me somewhat normally.

I had to crane my neck to look at both of them, especially Seth. He had changed so much since we had last talked, but I guess that's what werewolf hormones do to a guy. "Oh my gosh, Seth you've gotten so big! How old are you?"

Seth turned the most adorable shade of red and refused to meet my eye. "Fifteen," he muttered. Aw, I was embarrassing him, how sweet.

"You're so cute!" I laughed, getting a not-so-nice enjoyment out of his shame.

Sam waited patiently for me to finish before continuing with his introductions. "These are Collin, Brady, Quil, Embry, Jacob, Jared, and Paul."

I looked at each one individually, committing their names to memory. "Hi Collin. Hello Brady. Greetings Quil. Nice to meet you Embry. 'Sup Jacob. Bonjour Jared. Buenos dias-" I trailed off, staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes I had ever seen. I had always liked brown eyes, but this, this was beyond amazing. It was like I had been waiting my whole life for this moment, I actually felt whole for a few seconds. Cheesy, I know, but that's the only way to describe it.

"Awwww man, he's imprinted!" groaned Jared. I snapped out of my daze immediately. Imprinted? No. No, no, no, no, no! What kind of sick, twisted sense of humor did the Great Spirits have, making someone imprint on me? I wasn't imprint material! I was damaged goods, return to sender.

Paul's mouth had been slightly open, but he snapped it shut when he realized the meaning of Jared's words. "I have not!" He snarled venomously, glaring at me. "There is no possible way that I have imprinted on…on…her!" Any other time his rejection would have hurt, but now I could only be thankful for his denial. He couldn't have imprinted. He was just…surprised, that was all.

"Of course Paul hasn't imprinted on me," I said smoothly to the others. "He's just dazed by my beautiful personality and natural good looks."

I turned my body completely away from Paul to face Emily, willing myself not to sneak a glance at his face. "So should I unpack?" I asked as brightly as I could manage. Emily had been frowning at Paul, but quickly broke away from his gaze when I spoke.

"Sure," she said, forcing a smile to match mine. "I'll show you your room, and once your settled you can get to know the pack." She grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs to a small room facing the front of the house. I had to admit, it was perfect. Small, but perfect for my purposes.

The walls were painted a light green, and a fluffy white carpet covered the entire floor. I guess Emily wanted me to have as little bruising as possible when I inevitably sat down too hard.

The far wall was mostly a large window with a window seat directly under it, I could already imagine spending hours on end writing while looking outside. My bed was on the left wall, a simple frame with a plain white bedspread. Beside it was a tiny table holding a lamp and an alarm clock. The other side of the room held a small dresser and a desk with a rolling chair. A bookcase in the far corner made me smile, Emily knew me so well.

I couldn't help but squeal a little as I hugged Emily; this room had everything I needed. "Thanks," I mumbled into her shoulder.

"No problem," Emily said, kissing me on the head and then leaving me to unpack.

The first thing I did was carefully place my laptop in its revered position on the desk. My dad had given it to me for my fifteenth birthday, and four years later it still worked fine. Besides, there was really no point wasting money on a new model. The laptop had been infinitely helpful, without it I would never have been able to go to school online or complete so many stories.

Next came my endless collection of books, everything from Harry Potter to Pride and Prejudice. I would have to ask Emily if there was a library on the reservation. My many journals and pens covered the rest of the desk surface, and my camera and iPod took places on the top of the dresser.

My clothes took practically no time to unpack, mainly because all I had were t-shirts, jeans, athletic shorts, and jackets if I was here come winter, although it was the middle of summer currently. I had two nice shirts and a few skirts, but only for church. My shoes consisted of tennis shoes, flip-flops, and one pair of flats.

I had a small box of earrings, my charm bracelet, and my mom's old necklace, but the only jewelry I usually wore was hair bands and a watch. Emily was letting me takeover the hall bathroom, so I wouldn't have to go though the stress of sharing a bathroom of the two fiancés.

I ran a brush through my bright red hair, which was still messed up from when I had slept on the plane ride over. Once I didn't look as much like someone who had been sleeping in a trashcan I raced back down the stairs to join the rest of the pack. The boys had relaxed while I was gone; Quil, Embry, and Jacob were lounging on the couch watching a recorded basketball game on the TV while the others talked in various groups around the room.

I skipped over to the couch and sat on the arm, my feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Jacob glanced up at me, but soon went back to watching the screen. I watched in silence for a while, engrossed in the game. I had always loved basketball, it was something my dad and I used to do before my mother died, and I had continued on even after he stopped caring.

I couldn't help but let out a little whoop as one of the players picked another, sending him to the floor. Jacob glanced up at me again, this time surprised. "You're into basketball?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "No, I just enjoy staring at a TV screen."

Paul let out a disbelieving cough from across the room. "Or maybe you just enjoy your reflection."

I smirked at him; glad he was still opposed to the impossible imprint. "Well I must admit, I _am_ a looker, but it's my personality I enjoy the most. Oh, and the sound of my own voice, the only reason I'm still talking to you right now."

He frowned, and I felt myself wince a little. _I don't care about him._ I reminded myself. _It's best that we don't get along anyway. _

"So are you coming to the bonfire tonight?" Jacob asked after a few minutes of silence.

I nodded. "Of course I'm going to the bonfire, I want a chance to meet the girls and get to know everyone better."

The remainder of the game was spent in silence, except for the murmur of different conversations around the room. Once it was over I went upstairs to change for the bonfire, I had worn sweatpants and an old T-shirt for travel, and I wanted to look like I put at least some effort into my appearance. I changed into one of my nice shirts and a pair of jeans then bounded back downstairs.

Most of the pack was already gone, but Emily had waited for me. She pulled me into another tight hug as soon as I reached her. "It really is good to see you again." She murmured. "Have you been doing alright?"

I sighed and pulled away. "I'm fine, honestly. I'm as healthy as a horse. Except, if I was a horse they would have killed me by now, too sick to keep."

Emily laughed and ruffled my hair. "If you were a dog they would have killed you by now," she said, finishing one of our oldest jokes. "Now come on, I want you to meet the others."

We walked arm and arm out of the house and down to the beach. Someone had already started a fire, and Sam and Jared were both at grills. No one was eating yet, so Emily took me over to Kim, Renesmee, and Claire.

"Hi!" I said, sticking out my hand. "I'm Cat, one of Emily's many cousins." I already knew Claire, although it took her a few seconds to recognize me. She hadn't seen me in over four years, and even then I had looked completely different. Kim and Renesmee were both kind of shy, but after a while they opened up. We chatted until the food was ready, then sat together. I couldn't help but smile, enjoying the feeling of being normal for the first time in years.


	3. First Sight

**I own only the plotline and the characters you don't recognize.**

Chapter 2

First Sight (And hopefully last)

Paul

"…and I expect you all to treat our guest with respect, none of your usual- Paul!"

Sam's annoyed exclamation jerked me out of my thoughts. "What?" I asked, trying to act like I knew what he was talking about.

Sam sighed and rubbed his temples. "Were you even listening to me?"

I shrugged, knowing it wouldn't do any good to lie. "Something about a cat?"

Sam started turning red, and Emily had to step in for him. "He was explaining that my cousin, Cat, is going to stay in our home for the next few months. So be nice, Paul."

Jacob snickered. "In other words, don't be yourself."

I was about to snap back at him when the door burst open and a blur of red hair and pale skin flew into Emily's arms. "Emily!" it shouted, and quickly kissed her on both cheeks. "Bonjour cher cousin!"

Emily laughed and returned her hug. "Cat! It's so good to see you. And…what did you say?"

Cat barely let her finish before she started talking again. "Oh, I've been dabbling in the arts of the language that is French." She spun out of Emily's arms and her eyes fell on Sam. "Sam!" she squealed, running to give him a hug as well.

I blinked and almost took a step back. This girl was so…perky. How could such a small body hold so much energy? And more importantly, how was I supposed to keep from going insane while being exposed to so much cheer? It looked like any second she would explode.

Once Cat was done attacking Sam she turned to look at the rest the pack. Emily had lined us up in front of the couch, so that Cat could meet everyone upon her arrival. It never occurred to her that some of us had other places to be. I didn't technically have other plans, but almost anything would have been better than this. To make matters worse, she had insisted we all wear shirts. I fidgeted uncomfortably, I wasn't used to wearing so many clothes.

Catt appraised us quickly before turning back to Emily. "Ils sont tous très beau, mais n'avez-vous pas dit qu'ils sont normalement la moitié nu?" Embry let out a short bark of laughter; he alone had taken French in high school.

Emily didn't even bother to ask for a translation. "Why don't you introduce yourself to the pack?"

I stiffened at the word 'pack'. Did Cat know about us? Or was Emily just being stupid? Before I could say anything Cat was talking again. "Don't worry, Emily warned me about your little wolf problem before I moved. She thought it would be easiest, seeing as I'm living with her an all. I really hope I'm not intruding, but I needed a change of scenery and I don't really have that much money, so I couldn't afford to get my own place. I promise I won't get in the way…" I kind of zoned out after that point, I could only stand so much rambling.

While Cat was talking I finally got a chance to take her in. Her hair was cut just below her chin and dyed a bright red that seemed to scream, "Look at me, look at me!" I detested people who tried to use shocking appearances to bring attention to themselves. She was looking at Jared so I couldn't see her eyes, but her curved nose and pale skin were splattered with freckles. Two red bandanas were tied on either wrist.

After what seemed like an hour of talking Emily finally cut Cat off. "Just tell them a bit about yourself Cat."

Cat let out a huge sigh, as if Emily had asked her to run one hundred miles or write an essay. "Fine. I am Catherine Elizabeth Young, born to Robert E. Young and Samantha A. Young on the eighteenth of May, nineteen ninety three. I-"

"Cat!" Emily interrupted, "They don't need to hear your whole life story, just tell them the basics." Emily was starting to get annoyed, something that rarely happened. This girl must have powers to be that annoying.

"Sure, sure," Cat relented. "I'm Cat Young, Emily's cousin. I'm 19, and I have a degree in English." She smirked a bit at the last part, like it was some big accomplishment.

_Well my name is Paul Lahote, and I can turn into a supernatural incredibly strong and fast wolf. Beat that._

"I lived here until I was seven, but we, my dad and I, moved away when my mom died in a car crash," she continued. "I'll be staying with Emily until I can find other living arrangements."

Once Cat was done speaking Sam stepped forward and waved towards us. "This is the pack. Of course you already know Leah and Seth-"

Cat cut him off with another squeal and ran to her cousins. What was with this girl? "It's so good to see you guys!" she gushed. I expected Leah to be scowling, but her lips actually turned up at the edges a little. Not a full smile, I don't think Leah's capable of that, but more than I expected.

Cat had to stand on her tiptoes to hug them, and I could see her surprise when she saw Seth. She must have been used to the pre-phase Seth.

"Oh my gosh, Seth you've gotten so big! How old are you?"

Seth turned red and looked down at the floor. "Fifteen," he muttered.

"You're so cute!" Cat giggled. Giggling? Kill me now.

Sam waited until she was done with her outburst before continuing. "These are Collin, Brady, Quil, Embry, Jacob, Jared, and Paul."

Cat took a second to look at each of us, her face scrunched up in concentration. "Hi Collin. Hello Brady. Greetings Quil. Nice to meet you Embry. 'Sup Jacob. Bonjour Jared. Buenos dias-"

But I didn't hear the end of her statement, nor did I care, because I had just looked into her eyes. Suddenly, noting mattered more than this glorious creature before me. She was my everything, my sun, my moon, my stars. A thousand steel bolts pulled me towards her, gravity had nothing on this. Nothing mattered more than protecting her. My mouth fell open, but I couldn't find the will to close it, what did it matter if it didn't help her?

"Awwww man, he's imprinted!" groaned Jared. I snapped my mouth shut at his words. What? No way, there was no way I had imprinted on Cat! "I have not!" I snarled. "There is no possible way that I have imprinted on…on…her!" Just saying the words caused a little twinge in my chest, but I ignored it. I did not care about Cat Young.

"Of course Paul hasn't imprinted on me," Cat said to my surprise. "He's just dazed by my beautiful personality and natural good looks."

As my irritation grew, it seemed less and less likely that I had actually imprinted on her. It was probably just a random brain lapse, it could probably happen.

Still, I couldn't help but stare at her as she turned to Emily. "So should I unpack?" she asked, seemingly completely unfazed.

"Sure," Emily said with a strained smile. "I'll show you your room and once you're settled you can get to know the pack." But as she lead Cat up the stairs she threw a quick glare my way, and I had the feeling I was going to get it when she came back downstairs.

As soon as the two girls were out of hearing Jacob started laughing. "Oh man, you are dead.'

I ignored him and went to take a seat on the couch. But apparently Jacob wasn't good at interpreting body language, because he followed after me. "Not only is Emily going to let you have it, but you just imprinted on a girl you can't stand! You sure can pick'em…"

"I did not imprint," I growled, turning on the TV and staring blankly at the screen. "I don't even care about her."

"Well you're going to," said an icy voice from the stairs. I turned to see Emily glaring at me and flinched. She might not have been very strong, but her word was law. She beckoned me over to her, even though she knew full well everyone would be able to hear us anyway.

"When Cat gets back downstairs I expect you to treat her nicely and with respect. She's been through a lot, and I won't have you ruining her stay here."

I rolled my eyes, but nodded. "How about I just avoid her altogether, that way I won't annoy her at all."

"I vote for that!" Jacob called from the couch. "Then we won't have to deal with him either."

Emily ignored this. "Paul, you can deny it all you want, but you imprinted on her, and you _will_ be nice about it."

I nodded sourly, but just to get Emily off my back. Once she was satisfied she went over to talk to Sam while I started a conversation with Jared. My head wasn't in it though, I just kept on thinking of Cat. What was she doing right now? Was she okay? Except I didn't care if she was okay, I didn't care at all.

After a few minutes Cat came downstairs and started watching the TV with the other guys. I did my best to ignore her, but I had to turn around when she whooped in excitement.

"You're into basketball?" Jacob asked in surprise. So that's what they were watching.

"No, I just enjoy staring at a TV screen," Cat responded sarcastically.

"Or maybe you just enjoy your reflection," I muttered, feeling the need to start an argument.

Cat smirked at me. "Well I must admit, I _am_ a looker, but it's my personality I enjoy the most. Oh, and the sound of my own voice, the only reason I'm still talking to you right now."

I glowered at her, resisting the urge to insult her any more. Emily would have my head for sure, and Sam would side with her.

After a few minutes of blissful silence Jacob spoke up again. "So are you coming to the bonfire tonight?" He asked Cat.

I tried not to listen, but I was curious about Cat's answer. "Of course I'm going to the bonfire, I want a chance to meet the girls and get to know everyone better."

I felt my irritation grow; I would have to spend even more time with her! In an attempt to distract myself I started talking to Jared again, this time about whether or not he would be going to community college with Kim. There really wasn't that much of a question, if Kim went, then Jared went. Yet another reason why I refused to imprint on Cat, I never wanted to be controlled like that.

As soon as the basketball game finished the pack headed down to the beach, leaving Emily to wait for Cat. I felt a little ache as we left the house, but I did my best to ignore it. I was probably just still sore from patrol anyway. But the ache grew as we went further away, and it was almost impossible to deny the imprint. But even if I had imprinted, it didn't mean we had to get to know each other. We could just be friends. Very distant friends.

Jared ran ahead so he could see Kim sooner, so I dropped back to walk with Jacob, Quil, and Embry. They were talking about basketball, but as soon as they noticed me they fell silent. Jacob got a mischievous grin on his face, and I began to regret joining him.

"Cat's pretty nice, don't you think so Paul?" he asked innocently.

I shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "She's alright."

"It must be nice to have imprinted on her."

A low growl rumbled in my chest. "I have _not_ imprinted."

Quil laughed at my denial. "You're just mad because she's not feeling the pull. You're used to girls throwing themselves at you, but now the situation is reversed."

I punched Quil in the shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise. He rubbed his skin but didn't say anything else, knowing full well that more teasing would result in a broken bone.

Once we reached the beach the pack split up, some going to check on their imprints and some just trying to steal some food. I sat down on a log by the fire and tried not to think about Cat, warning off anyone who came near me with a glare. But despite my attempts my eyes kept on wandering to the path from Sam's house, wanting to see if she had made it yet. Did it normally take this long for girls to change? What if she had gotten hurt? Maybe I should go check on her…_No Paul!_ I reminded myself forcefully. I didn't care about her. I. Did. Not. Care.

Jared came back over and started talking to me, but I was only half listening. Cat had just arrived, and she was talking to Kim and Renesmee. "Paul? Paul can you even hear me?" Jared waved his hands in front of my eyes.

I jumped a little, and then did my best to turn my attention to Jared. Apparently Kim's birthday was coming up, and he had no idea what to get her. Jewelry seemed like the obvious choice, but he wasn't sure what she liked, and he didn't want to appear stupid. I was spared the rest of his tirade by the announcement that the food was ready. The girls were served first, then the rest of us mobbed the grills. I grabbed two hamburgers, three hotdogs, and as many chips as I could before Sam made me sit back down.

I couldn't take my eyes off Cat. Every time she got up, every time she shifted, my eyes automatically followed her. And, to put it frankly, it was annoying. I didn't even _like_ this girl. Well, I didn't want to like her at least. But the wolf in me, the wolf I was desperately trying to squash down, was completely wrapped around her little finger.

Cat had gotten a cheeseburger and a few chips and was sitting in between Kim and Emily. I could easily hear them from the log I sat, but I did my best to ignore her words. She was going on about writing or something, utterly boring.

Despite my intentions I ended up watching her for most of the meal, only stopping to get more food. Cat only ate a few of her chips and half of her burger, something that caused the wolf in me to worry. Shouldn't she be eating more? _Not my problem._ I reminded myself.

Jacob soon joined the girls, and a possessive growl slipped through my lips when he casually slung a hand over Cat's shoulders. "Aren't you going to eat any more?" he asked, pointing to her half finished tray of food.

Cat smiled up at him, craning her neck even while he was crouching. "Nah, I'm feeling pretty full."

Jacob wrinkled his nose at her. "What, do you have some kind of disorder?"

Cat's smile suddenly turned frail, and her laugh was like shattering glass. "Of course not," she said, lightly punching him in the shoulder.

Jacob considered her for a moment, and then shrugged. "So can I have it?"

Cat's easy expression returned and she handed him her plate. "Sure, knock yourself out."

Eventually everyone finished eating, and Jacob and Jared began to plan a football game. There was the usual argument about teams, but in the end it was Collin, Seth, Quil, Jacob, and I versus Brady, Leah, Embry, Jared and Sam. Then Renesmee wanted to play, which brought on a whole new set of problems. Not only did she make the teams uneven, but Jacob was sure to go easy on her if they were on opposite teams. But Jacob couldn't deny Renesmee anything, so she ended up on our team.

To make the teams even Jacob invited Cat to play. She had been tracing patterns in the sand, but she eagerly jumped up at Jacob's offer. There was a look on her face that I couldn't quite understand. There was happiness, but also something else. Relief? Before I could think any more on it Cat skipped over. "Sure!" she said brightly. Then her face dropped. "But, I don't actually know how to play football."

I couldn't hold back a sigh. This would delay us even more! Jacob shrugged, undeterred. "That's alright, I can show you the basics." I growled, and Jacob raised his eyebrows at me, grinning. Was he doing all this just to annoy me?

Jacob explained the rules to Cat, and I had to admit, she caught on pretty fast. Unfortunately I spent most of the game keeping an eye on her, causing me to be of no help to my team.

The beach began to get darker as the fire died off, and Sam insisted that we wrap it up. Jacob passed me the ball and I took off down the beach. I glanced behind me to see if Brady was on my tail, and my heart stopped. Brady was running after me, his eyes focused on the ball in my hand. But what he didn't see was Cat, running right across his path.

I shouted a warning, but by the time the words had left my mouth Cat was flying through the air. I raced to catch her, but she hit the sand with a loud thump before I could reach her. I turned to Brady and let out a roar of fury.

"Paul!" Sam shouted, but I had already transformed. I flew at Brady, aiming my claws for his chest when a battering ram of pure force hit me from the side. _Paul, stop. Now._ Sam snarled, and I could feel his Alpha power forcing me into submission. I whimpered and bowed to the ground, hating Sam for not allowing me to defend her.

Sam phased back, pulling up his pants and rushing over to Cat. I ran forward too, still too upset to change back. Cat was already sitting up, but by the way she winced when Emily touched her arm I could tell she was still in pain.

"I'm fine." She said repeatedly, brushing away offers of help. "Seriously, it didn't even hurt that much. And it wasn't Brady's fault, I wasn't paying attention."

Emily gently lifted up Cat's sleeve, and another round of snarls ripped from my chest. Her arm was one big bruise. "I'm fine," Cat insisted. "I just, bruise easily. Come on Emily you know it's true."

Emily nodded reluctantly. "Still, we should get some ice on that." Cat stood shakily, uselessly trying to repel offers of help. As she hobbled back towards the house I ran back into the woods and phased back, pulling on a pair of emergency sweats that Sam had hidden in various spots.

Once I reached the house Cat had already gone upstairs, so I turned on Brady. "You are so dead," I hissed through clenched teeth.

Brady raised his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. "I'm sorry man, I didn't mean to. Please, it was an accident!"

Sam's firm grip on my shoulder kept me from flying at him. "Stop," he said firmly. "It was an accident, that much is obvious. Cat has forgiven Brady, and you should too."

I shook off Sam's hand, but made no move towards Brady. I shouldn't even care about this anyway! It was Cat's problem, not mine. But I wanted so badly to go up to her room, to see if she was okay. "I have to go," I said tightly before racing out of the house, not giving myself a chance to fulfill my fantasies. I couldn't resist the urge to turn around and look back at the house. Cat was sitting by the window, and for a brief second our eyes met before I turned and ran as fast as I could away from her.

**Hey guys, I'm updating a little early this week due to some requests by my readers. Thanks so much to those of you have reviewed. If you haven't, but have followed or favorited my story, I would love to here from you. Updates might get a little sparse over the next few weeks because of the holidays, but I'll try to get back soon.**


	4. Hallucinations

Chapter 3

Hallucinations

Cat

I hated it when people made a big deal over me being hurt. It was like I wasn't even there anymore, just my injury. "I'm fine," I said again, but Emily wasn't listening. She bustled around the kitchen trying to find an ice pack while Brady repeatedly apologized. "It's nothing, really," I insisted, accepting a bag of frozen peas from Emily. "I'm just going to go up to my room and rest a bit, okay?"

I hurried up the stairs and flopped down onto my bed with a sigh of relief. I had been lying; my arm did hurt, a lot. It felt like I had run into a brick wall. But the ice was helping, and it wasn't like I was a stranger to pain. As my friend Marcy would say, "You need to toughen up and get over it!"

Marcy was my best friend during those years. I guess you can't help bonding when you share a ward. We both knew what it was like to be sick, to have people tiptoe around your bed and talk in hushed voices, to have your life whisked away from you. There was only one difference between us. I was in there to be 'cured'. She was only there to buy some time. Her cancer was deadly; she only had a few months left.

It was Marcy that kept me from depression during those years. Well, she didn't keep me from it, but she kept it from being too serious. Whenever I started to wallow in self-pity she would tell me to get over it and be thankful for what I had. No one else had the gut to say that to my face, you don't want to be mean to a girl who has cancer.

After three years of treatment my symptoms finally disappeared. There's no true cure for Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, but it meant I could return to normal life. Not that life would ever be normal again. Marcy died two months before I was released.

I rolled on my side to face the alarm clock. Seeing the bright red 10:30, I groaned and rolled over. I hadn't told Emily and Sam about my peculiar sleeping habits, so I wouldn't be able to get up at my usual time. Six o'clock might be acceptable if I told them I got up early for a jog, but that meant I had an hour and a half to kill.

I sat up, wincing as my arm throbbed, and grabbed one of my many journals. I was starting a new story tonight, one about star-crossed lovers and new chances. I wrote for half an hour, then read until midnight. When I couldn't put it off anymore I rolled out of bed and went over to my discarded suitcase. Tucked deep within the folds was a tiny bottle of Rozerum. I probably wasn't supposed to be trusted with a medication that could easily be used for suicide, but I was a legal adult now and my father was in no shape to stop me.

I swallowed my dose quickly and jumped into bed, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to breath deeply. The medication helped me get asleep, but the feeling of being powerless drove me crazy, it was way too much like the hospital. The medicine only kept me asleep for six hours at the most, and the side effects were not pleasant. All in all, it was a pain.

My breathing started to get faster as my body froze up, the memories coming fast. I couldn't move, I was back there, surrounded by the whir of machines and the voices of people that spoke like I wasn't there. Then, so quickly that I didn't have time to react, the medicine kicked in and I was unconscious.

The nightmares were the same as always. Swirling colors, the mindless panic, unable to do anything but watch as everything spiraled out of control. I didn't scream in my sleep, one of the only upsides to the medication. I woke up once at about three a.m., sweating profusely and trembling. I panted, looking around the room. Suddenly Marcy was there, sitting on the end of my bed and swinging her legs just like she used to. "Let me see your wrists Catherine," she begged, her voice ghostly and weak as it had been during her last days. "I want to see you your wrists." I shook my head and opened my mouth to scream, but before I could make a sound the medication kicked in again and I was out, trapped once again in a world of dreams.

I woke up at 5:30 the next morning, completely twisted up in the sheets of my bed. I lay there for a few seconds, twisting the bandannas around my wrists and thinking about the hallucination. It wasn't rare, in fact it was a common side affect for the medicine. But it was always creepy to have a dead friend telling you to do something you had sworn would never happen.

I hadn't always worn the bandannas; it was too inconvenient in the hospital. But after I was released it became a different story. The moment people saw my wrists they would instinctively back away, treating me like some cornered animal. I don't think anyone knew what was under the cloth. The hospital staff knew, and my father must have been informed, but I doubt he remembered.

I lay fidgeting in bed until six, and then pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I probably wouldn't be doing much actual jogging, but I needed an excuse for being up so early.

I tiptoed down the stairs, grabbed an apple from the fridge, and began to walk down the road. The sun had only just begun to rise, and it felt like I was in another world. Everyone was still asleep, so it was just me and the sound of the ocean in the distance.

I used to spend every day out here when I lived in La Push. I would spend hours looking at the tide pools, making up a story for every creature swimming in them. After my mother died my father became a recluse, and my cancer pushed him over the edge, and that was the end of any family vacations. Being back on the near the beach, I could almost pretend I still had a mother, still had a life.

It only took a little while to get tired, something that never ceased to embarrass me. It wasn't like I had been particularly strong or fast before, but the aftermath of the chemotherapy made me very susceptible to fatigue.

With a sigh I circled back around and headed back up to Sam and Emily's house. By the time I reached the door I was breathing heavily and sweating by the bucket full. I took a few seconds to collect myself, and erase the night before from my memory. _Okay Cat, you can do this. It's not like Paul will even be there…wait, Paul? No, I am not worried about him. I don't care about Paul. I don't care about Paul._

Still repeating the words in my head, I pushed open the door and skipped inside. "Hey Emily, something smells delicious!" I said brightly.

Emily looked up from the frying pan she had been standing over with a smile. "Thanks Cat, it's good to see you. Oh, before I forget, Sam has something he needs to talk to you about. He's in the living room at the moment."

Still smiling I nodded, but I was instantly on my guard. What could Sam have to say? Had he heard me last night? Were his wolf senses so good that he had smelled the Rozerum? Had my father actually answered the phone for once and realized that I was technically supposed to be doing therapy? The possibilities were endless.

Sam was watching the news, but put it on mute when he heard me come in. "Cat," he said in an all too familiar tone, "there's something we need to discuss." Like I hadn't heard that before. Maybe not the exact wording, but the same tone. _Catherine, I'm afraid your mother didn't make it. Catherine, the results are in from the testing and I regret to inform you that you may have a form of cancer. Catherine, we need to discuss the affects of chemotherapy. Cat, your friend Marcy passed away last week._

I sat down stiffly on the couch, watching him with wary eyes. If he noticed a change in my usually cheery disposition, he didn't say anything. "Due to the fact that Paul imprinted on you-"

"Paul hasn't imprinted on me," I interrupted.

Sam's forehead wrinkled with confusion, but he continued. "I know this may be difficult to process, but you can't just deny the imprint."

"Paul has not imprinted on me," I said firmly. "It's not possible. I'm not exactly good imprint material."

"Cat, I understand that you had cancer in the past, but that doesn't mean that Paul hasn't imprinted on you. The signs are all there."

I shook my head, ignoring his logic. "It's not just that. I-" I hesitated. How could I explain just how messed up I was without him sending me to a mental ward? "The cancer had side affects. So, if we're done here, can I go eat breakfast?"

Sam sighed and massaged his temple, but let me leave. I walked quickly back into the kitchen and filled a plate of scrambled eggs from Emily. I wasn't really hungry, but I knew I had to eat more. The doctors had explained that my liver might still be swollen, so I couldn't trust my instincts when it came to food.

After forcing down as many eggs as I could manage I washed my plate and gave Emily a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm going to explore La Push a bit, okay?"

Emily nodded, barely looking up from he paper she was now reading. I ran upstairs and grabbed a purse filled with all of my necessities. A water bottle, wallet, notebook, pens, cell phone, iPod, and another small bottle of pills. If I was lucky, I wouldn't need to take any. But luck wasn't exactly my strong suit.

La Push was a small town, and if I paced myself I could probably refresh my memory without a car. I had a pretty good sense of direction, and after a day in town I was almost sure it would all come back to me.

I waved to Sam on my way out the door, doing my best to pretend our little talk had never happened. Sam could think whatever he wanted, but there was no way Paul had imprinted on me. The world just didn't work like that.

I wandered through town for a few hours, finding the grocery store, the library, and several of my other old haunts. At around 11:00 I stopped at a small café, Lila's Diner, for an early lunch. My mother and I used to eat there every Saturday when she was off work. She was an elementary school teacher, and I always treasured the little free time she had to spend with me.

I sat outside on a small metal table, tapping a rhythm on the side of my chair and bouncing my knee lightly. After a few minutes a middle age woman in a tight red apron came to take my order. "So what'll it be?"

I scanned the menu until I found my usual. "I'll have a short stack of pancakes and a half order of bacon please."

The woman smiled at me, and her warm brown eyes reminded me so much of my mother that I wanted to cry. "Excellent choice. I'll have your food in a few." I nodded and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and trying to keep myself together. I shouldn't have come here. Not on my second day back, when I was still adjusting to the constant reminders of my old life.

I thrust my hand into my purse and blindly groped around until it closed around the familiar bottle of Xanax. I winced as I popped them in my mouth; I was only supposed to use these in case of emergency. The doctors had repeatedly warned me of how addictive the drug could be, but I couldn't risk having a panic attack in such a public place.

After a few minutes it took affect, and I was able to accept my food from the waitress with a strained smile of my own. I regretted ordering so much food now, and only managed two pieces of bacon and a few pieces of pancake. I stared at my plate, spinning my spoon around and trying to convince myself that I was still hungry. It did no good, only serving to make me feel even more nauseous. That was another reason I hated Xanax, the side affects.

I rested my head on the table, ignoring the strange looks from other costumers. Hopefully they would think I was just a bit tired. The waitress pointedly gave me a check, probably hoping to clear up my table. I accepted it with a weak nod and she softened, patting my cheek before attending to her next costumer. I was focusing on keeping the contents of my stomach where they belonged when a dark shadow loomed over me.

I raised my head and found myself starting into the eyes of Paul Lahote. "What do you want?" I snapped, and the look on his face made me want to take it all back. He didn't deserve to be sad. I hated myself for doing that to him, but I couldn't afford to get close to him.

"I came to…apologize." He spat the word out like it was acid. "I was rude earlier, and I'm sorry."

I watched him carefully. There was no doubt that Sam had put him up to it, probably thinking I was rejecting the imprint because of how Paul behaved. I wished that was the only reason. "I accept your apology," I said stiffly, then pretended to eat my food so I could ignore him.

He continued to stand there, and it grew harder and harder to ignore him. "Can I help you?" I asked after a few more minutes.

"Um yeah. I just apologized to you, even though I didn't even _do_ anything, and now you're not even going to say anything?"

I shrugged and began to dig my wallet out of my purse, eager to get away. Paul started to shake and grabbed my hand, yanking it away. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to pay. Can you let go of me?" I asked, trying not to upset him further. Unfortunately I wasn't doing a very good job of it.

He let go of my hand, but shook even more. I folded the bills and lay them on the table. I tried to leave, but he yanked me back. "What's your problem?"

"A lot of things," I muttered, hurrying away before he could stop me again.

**Hey guys, sorry it's been so long, I've been really busy over the past few days. I hope all of you had a good Christmas, and I hope you enjoy the update. Please review, they make my day, and I'll be happy with both good and bad criticism. **


	5. Late Night Conversations

**I only own what you don't recognize.**

Chapter 4

Late Night Conversations

I stood there, shaking, for who knows how long. A waitress tried to approach me at one time, but I warned her off with a glare. I wouldn't have had enough self-control to talk to anyone. All I could think of was Cat. What was with that girl? I apologized. I, of all people, apologized, and she's just going to ignore me? Sure, she said she forgave me, but I was pretty sure forgiving didn't entail ignoring the person you had just forgiven.

Did she think this was normal for me? That I was just some big softie who could be wrapped around her finger with a glance in her eyes? Yeah right. The only reason I had even apologized was because Sam ordered me to, saying it would warm her up to me. Great plan Sam. If anything she hated me even more.

But I didn't even care! She could do whatever she wanted; it didn't bother me. She was just some puny girl who thought she could waltz into my life and take over. Think again Cat. Besides, soon enough she wouldn't be able to get enough of me. The imprint worked both ways, so she had to feel some pull. She was probably just trying to play it cool. Yeah, that was it. She was acting nonchalant because she didn't want to throw herself at me. I could understand that.

The tremors slowly subsided, and I was completely calm by the time I completed my analysis of her behavior. She was just playing hard to get, and even that wouldn't last long. I glanced down at my watch and swore, earning a few odd looks from those around me. Patrol started in five minutes!

I hurried away from the diner and into the nearby woods where I pulled off my clothes and phased. Jared and Sam were already in wolf form too; only Quil was running late. I raced through the trees until I reached a small clearing where the others were gathered. Quil arrived a few minutes after me, and we all split up.

We had all patrolled this area a million times before, and it wasn't long before instinct took over and we were free to let our minds wander. The only problem: everyone else could here you too. And apparently, that made it okay to get all up in everyone's business.

_How did things go with Cat?_ Sam asked, and Quil and Jared immediately came to attention.

I tried to ignore him, but an image of her stony face came almost unbidden to my mind. _Paul_. Sam's tone was reproving, which only served to infuriate me more.

_I didn't even do anything! I apologized, just like you made me, and she completely ignored me!_

_Did you apologize nicely?_

I ran through our entire conversation in my head, trying to get Sam to buzz off. Of course Jared and Quil, being the jerks that they were, had to make commentary on the entire thing, and nearly died laughing when Cat blew me off. Too bad they were miles away; I could have used a good fight.

_Just give her some time. _Sam counseled. _The girl's been though a lot, and this is all hard for her to comprehend. Before you know it she'll be fine._ His words might have reassured me if I didn't catch a flash of worry as he thought the last sentence.

_You're lying,_ I thought firmly. _I can hear it. Why though? Why is Cat resisting the imprint?_

_I don't know what you're talking about._ Sam thought, suddenly interested in the trees around him.

_Come on,_ I pressured him. _Maybe if you tell me I could do better. I could get around it, and I might be able to control my temper"_

_You __will__ control your temper._ Sam corrected. _And there's nothing that you need to know. As I've said, Cat has been through a lot, and you better make sure you don't put her through anything else._

_But she's my imprint! Don't I deserve to know?_

_Paul, respect her privacy._

_But she'll tell me eventually, right?_

_Paul, drop it._

_Come on, I just-_

_Drop it._ Sam's last words held the heavy weight of an Alpha's command, and with a sigh I moved on.

I tried to tune out the others' thoughts as I ran on, focusing solely on the crisp leaves beneath my feet and the many scents in the air. Someone who had a liking for perfume had been hiking recently, and a fox had passed through only a few hours before. There was an array of other smells too, some from weeks ago. That was what I liked best about being a werewolf, besides the brute strength obviously. I could see what had happened before me, like my nose held a record of the past.

It seemed as if that was the only way to hold on to the past. Memories were so fleeting, and even documentation couldn't be perfect. The rest of the pack thought it was strange, my obsession with times gone by, but it made perfect sense to me. The past was stable, something you could count on. The future brought on change, sometimes good and sometimes bad. To me, it just didn't seem worth the risk. Sure, good things could happen to you when things change, but good things could be lost too.

I was drawn from my thoughts by Sam. _There's a herd of deer near me, you guys can join me and grab a quick meal if you want._

Quil and Jacob declined, so in the end it was just Embry, Sam, and me. We ate mostly in silence, each focused on the piece of meat before him. But as the meal drew to a close Sam spoke to me again. _Paul, I know you don't like it, but I want you to really work with this imprint. Believe me, it'll be worth it._ His thoughts strayed to Emily and him.

_PDA!_ shouted Embry. _Honestly Sam, we get enough from Jared and Jacob, can you tone it down a bit?_

Sam ignored him, staring me straight in the eye. _"Just think on it, okay?"_ He didn't wait for a response before bounding away; he had some business to do and would be staying away overnight.

I ran towards the edge of the woods and phased, changing back into my clothes from before. It would probably have been best to go back home and get a few hours of shut-eye, but I was curious. What was so special about Cat? Why did Sam have to give me a special lecture, and not any of the other imprints? _Because he knows you'll somehow mess it up, _whispered a tiny voice in my head. I pushed that thought away; imprints were perfect for each other, so how could I mess it up? Still, I really wanted to find out what Cat's deal was. Did she have some kind of condition? I couldn't just ask her...but maybe I could see for myself. Sam would be gone for the night, and I was quiet enough not to wake Emily. Maybe if I climbed up her window I could see whatever she was hiding. It wasn't like I would be doing anything dirty, I would just watch until I found out what I needed to know.

I checked my watch; 8:53, Cat would probably still be up. I jogged over to Sam's house and paused in the shadow of one of the streetlights. How exactly was I going to do this? Cat's window was on the side of the house, beside an oak tree. One of the branches was just under her window, and if I could sit there I could watch her in comfort. The only problem was, there was no way I could make it up that far. The branch might be strong enough to hold my weight, but there were no branches beneath it, and even I couldn't jump that high.

I skirted closer to her side of the house in the hopes of finding another solution. A small smile formed on my lips as I noticed the drainpipe that ran down the edge. If I could shimmy up that, jumping to the tree branch would be no problem. I began to climb up it, but a loud creak filled the air when I let it support all of my weight. I froze, my heart beating deafeningly in my ears, but there was no change in movement from inside the house. I began to climb again, wedging my foot on the small rim that encircled every foot of the pipe. Once I was level with the branch I moved my feet, now swinging by my arms. I rocked back and forth, my momentum building until my feet were brushing the branch. On my next swing I released, and landed on the branch with a loud thump. Once again I paused, but it still seemed that no one had heard me. I crawled along the branch until I was beneath the window, then slowly raised my head a fraction of an inch so I could see into Cat's room.

I was disappointed. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just the same guest room that had always been there with a few of Cat's things added on. She was sitting at a desk in front of a laptop, typing away as if her life depended on it. Occasionally she would get up and walk around, but besides that it was utterly boring. After 10 minutes I began to look around her room in the hopes it would reveal something her actions didn't.

The once empty bookshelves were nearly bursting with books, but I didn't have the patience to read the titles. She had covered most of the flat surfaces in the room with a collection of pencils and notebooks, and a new pillow sat on the bed. Her suitcase lay on the floor, cleared of almost everything. The bitter smell of medications hung around it, but that was probably just Advil or something.

When it got to be 9:30 I thought Cat was about to do something, but it turned out she was just changing into her pajamas. I waited until it sounded like she was done, then resumed my tedious vigil. Cat was back on the computer, the only change was her increase of fidgeting.

My eyes began to droop, and I fought back a yawn. Had I really just wasted all of my night watching her type? Maybe she would do something interesting soon… I didn't want to leave anyway; I was perfectly comfortable on my branch. I felt even warmer than usual, too relaxed to move. I didn't bother to hold back the next yawn that came.

How long had I been doing this? I should just go home and get some sleep. But there was still a chance that something might happen. I would just close my eyes for a second, then I would continue to watch.

"Boo!" the insanely loud shout jerked me from my sleep and almost sent me off the branch.

I whipped around frantically and found myself face to face with a laughing Cat. "Careful," she giggled. "It's a long way down.

"What are you doing?" I exploded.

Cat leaned back against the window seat. "Shhh, you don't want to wake up Emily," she said, hiding her laughter. "And I really think I should be the one asking questions. Here's a good one, why are you outside my bedroom window?"

That shut me up. What was I supposed to say? 'I wanted to find out your secret?' That would turn out well. Then again, it would be even worse if she thought I was some sicko who watched girls undress. Sure, I would've enjoyed it, but I could never do that to my imprint.

Cat watched me think with an amused smile. When it became apparent that I had no answer she spoke again. "Here's another good one, how did you get up here? You look too heavy to have climbed the tree."

That, at least, I could answer. "I climbed the drainpipe and swung onto this branch."

Cat leaned farther out of the window to look at the drainpipe, and I had to resist the urge to push her back in so she wouldn't fall. Once she was satisfied she resumed her questioning. "Yet another, why did you fall asleep? You snore like crazy, it wasn't hard to hear you."

I blushed and looked down, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "I was tired and bored. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

This time Cat did laugh out loud. "What did you expect?"

"I expected that you wouldn't be so boring I would fall asleep. What were you working on anyway?"

She shrugged vaguely. "Just a little story, nothing of importance."

"Why were you staying up so late?"

Cat turned around to check the clock. "It's only midnight. Besides, you're staying up this late."

"Yeah, but I had patrol. Why bother staying up late if you aren't going to do anything?"

Cat's smile trembled a little. "I just didn't want to go to sleep."

"Why not?"

"You should go."

I jerked back at the sudden change in tone. "I was just asking a question, I didn't mean to be offensive or-"

"It's not that," Cat cut me off. "I just- you're right. I probably should get some sleep. I'm really tired." She faked a yawn and began to get up.

"What? You can't just leave!"

"I'm not going to leave, you are. Unless you want Sam to find out about this."

I glared at her, and she glared right back. I would have stuck it out longer, but the threat of Sam wasn't worth it. If he found out about my late night fieldtrip I wouldn't live to speak to Cat again.

Cat took my silence as consent and shut the window, nearly smashing a few of my fingers in the process. She looked at me one last time and then drew the curtains, making sure I couldn't watch anymore.

I continued to stare at the window until Cat poked her face in between the curtains. "Leave," she mouthed firmly, making shooing motions with her hands. I obeyed her, jumping off the branch and landing nimbly on my feet. I ran off into the darkness, thinking hard the whole way.

What was with this girl? One second she was smiling and laughing, despite the fact that I was outside her window, and the next she was practically shouting at me! And as far as I had seen she didn't have any big secret, so why did Sam act like she deserved my sympathy?

I had plenty of experience with girls, but nothing had prepared me for this. Maybe it was the fact that most of our time was spent making out and not talking, but I had still never come across such an emotional girl. Just my luck, I had imprinted on the one girl I didn't understand.

**Hey guys. I'm sorry for the long wait, but things have been really busy lately. It would be really awesome if I could get five reviews before my next post. If I get ten reviews before Sunday I'll post the day I get the tenth review. Thanks. **


	6. Accidental Cliff Diving

**I only own what you don't recognize.**

Chapter 5

Accidental Cliff Diving

The next morning came too quickly. I used to love sleep, especially dreams. Entire adventures that I could take in my head, worlds where anything could happen. After the nightmares came, I enjoyed sleep because it was a break. Dreams were no longer worth it, but the escape was. I didn't have to pretend to be okay; I could just be me. But those feelings disappeared every morning the sun came up, and I had to convince myself it was worth going through another day.

That morning I stayed in bed for a few seconds, curled into a ball on the mattress and tapping patterns into my bead spread. The night before was blurry, but I was relatively sure I had made a fool of myself. Stupid mood swings, stupid medication, stupid stalker Paul. Why had he chosen last night, of all nights, to turn psycho and spy on me? At least I was insanely happy instead of angry, I probably would have woken him up by pushing him off the tree if that were the case.

Everything had seemed so perfect during those moments. Like the imprint was right and we could be together and everyone would live happily ever after. Then, just like always, it all came crashing down. The utter despair of the situation, how no matter how hard I tried I would still end up hurting him.

Sure, it wasn't as extreme as my insane hormones made it out to be, but the facts were still the same. We couldn't be together. I would only end up breaking again, and this time he would be the one who had to pick up the pieces.

I sighed and stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. I looked like a mess. My hair was a complete rat's nest, giant bags hung beneath my eyes, and my skin was beginning to flake again. I let out a huff of annoyance as my hand came away covered in dead skin cells from where I had touched my cheek. The doctors had said that the affects of chemotherapy would take a while to wear off, but I hadn't expected it to be so obvious.

A bottle of hairspray and one broken brush later, my hair was back to normal. Excessive eye make up made the bags go away, but it looked like I was Goth. As for my skin, I settled with a gallon of lotion and hoped that no one would touch me. Not that they'd want to.

Jacob and Embry were sitting in the kitchen when I got down, and they were eating like horses. "Geez, Emily, do you starve them or something?" I asked as I sat down at the table, sipping a cup of orange juice.

Jacob looked up at me, scrambled eggs still hanging out of his mouth. "Yes," he mumbled through the food. "She's making us eat less because we have guests. I feel so frail and thin…"

I laughed, stealing a piece of egg from his plate and nibbling it. "You poor dear, next thing you know she'll be making you eat only one serving."

Both Jacob and Embry froze at that, staring at me like I was some kind of monster. "She's joking right?" Embry whispered.

"That's a sick joke," Jacob said, protectively encircling his plate with his arms and eating even faster.

I let them eat in peace after that, snatching eggs from them when they weren't looking and trying to act like I was eating enough whenever Emily glanced over. The boys devoured three more plates of food after that, and even then they only stopped because Emily forced them to.

"Hey Cat, do you want to go cliff diving with us?" Embry asked as they stood up. "We're going with a few of the pack."

I hesitated, biting my lip. On the one hand, it felt great to be included in something again. But could I really trust my body to handle it?

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Emily answered for me.

I gritted my teeth, suddenly annoyed. "Why not?" I demanded. It didn't matter that I had been thinking the same thing moments before; I wanted to be able to make my own decisions.

"I just…don't think you should be doing something so strenuous on your second day here," Emily said carefully.

"Well _I_ think it's a great idea," I snapped, pushing away from the table and standing up. "In fact, I would love to go, Embry."

Embry glanced between Emily and me, caught between two opposing wills. I glared at Emily, willing her to see why I needed to do this. Couldn't she see that I had to be able to choose my own path?

After a few seconds Emily sighed and looked away. "Fine," she said with an edge of irritation in her voice. "Just be careful."

"Thanks Emily!" I squealed, rushing to give her a hug before returning to Jacob and Embry. "Let me go get my bathing suit on underneath this, and then we can get this show on the road!"

The drive to the cliffs was quick enough, and soon we were walking down the sandy path to the edge. Two figures stood silhouetted against the sun, laughing and talking. "Hey!" Embry shouted as we approached. "Are you guys ready?"

I put my hand above my eyes and squinted, waiting for the details to come into focus. The one on the left looked to be Jared, and the one on the right…oh shoot. Paul. Did the world get some sick pleasure in throwing us together? _They said they were cliff diving with the pack; this has nothing to do with you._ A voice in my mind whispered, and I sighed. That was true, it was logic, not fate, that had gotten him here.

Paul raised a hand in greeting, but froze when he saw me. "What's she doing here?" He growled, taking a step forward.

"She's cliff diving with us," Jacob informed him.

"No, she's not," Paul said firmly. "She's going back to Emily's house and doing some silly activity that won't get her killed."

"She can speak for herself," I snapped. "And last time I checked, you don't decide what I do and what I don't."

"Don't be stupid!" Paul sneered. "You'll kill yourself!"

"I can take care of myself just fine," I seethed.

Paul gave a humorless laugh. "Sure, just like you handled yourself at the football game."

I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment. I stalked forward until I was right in front of him, just a few feet away from the edge. "Listen here, big guy. I've been perfectly fine for the last few years of my life, and I think I can survive a bit longer."

"Yes, you will survive longer, because you aren't doing this."

"Oh is that so?" I asked mockingly, walking around him until I could easily jump off. "And what are you going to do to stop me?"  
"I'll carry you if I have to," Paul growled closing the distance between us with a few short strides. "Just give it up Cat."

"No!" I shouted, taking a step back. "I am sick and tired of people telling me what to do all the time!" Another step back. "Just this once, I'm going to choose what happens to me!" I moved my foot back another step, but it landed on air. I gave a short gasp, throwing my hands around me in an attempt to regain balance. My body tilted backward, my useless attempts only serving to move me back farther, and then I was falling.

The wind rushed around me and my stomach jumped into my throat, the urge to puke was overwhelming. A figure leaped off the edge after me, and the last thing I saw was Paul's desperate face before a sharp pain dug into my head and everything went black.

I woke up surrounded by warmth. Giant hands enveloped me, guarding me from the dangers of the outside world. Automatically I curled closer to the heat, pressing my face into a wet t-shirt.

"You are so dead Jacob," the deep voice caused the chest to rumble. I clutched the t-shirt and curled tighter into a ball, trying to make the world go away. All I wanted was silence, was that too much to ask?

"How was I supposed to know she would fall? Besides, she was backing away from you." A flurry of snarls ripped from the chest, and the giant hands began to push me aside.

"No, stop," I mumbled, clutching at the t-shirt. "Don't let go of me." Instantly the hands were around me once more, cradling me even closer to the chest.

"You're awake!" rumbled the voice. "Cat, can you open your eyes?" No. I didn't want to open my eyes. I just wanted to relax and fall asleep without having to take pills. Why couldn't the voice just be quiet?

"Cat, I need you to open your eyes." I groaned and forced my eyelids upward. Everything was blurry at first, but when things finally came into focus I found myself staring into the eyes of Paul Lahote.

"Whoa!" I shouted, jerking away. I tried to scramble away, but the arms that had been comforting a few seconds before were now restraints. "Let me go!" I shouted, panicked. I was in the arms of Paul Lahote. The arms. Of Paul. Lahote. I gripped his arms and tried to pry them away, but it was like pulling on rocks. "Let go of me," I insisted, not meeting his eyes.

Everyone was silent for a second, then his arms snapped away from me. I tumbled into the sand, rolling a bit before I finally came to a stop. I lay there, my face pressed into the ground, trying to get my bearings. I had been arguing with Paul, I had stepped back too far. A searing pain in the back of my head confirmed my memory.

I took a deep breath and got to my knees, glaring at Paul when he tried to help me up. "I'm fine," I said, standing up unsteadily. "I'm going to go home."

"I can give you a ride," Paul said eagerly, and I stifled a groan. How was I supposed to stay away from him if he was everywhere I was?

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said quickly. "I can just ride with Jacob, he's the one who brought me here."

I turned to look at Jacob, but he was suddenly very pale. "Um, I actually, uh, have to, um, go somewhere. So you should go with Paul. Bye." He and Embry practically ran away from me, and after a glare from Paul Jared left too.

I stood there awkwardly, waiting for Paul to say something, but all he did was stare at me. I cleared my throat, but he didn't notice. "So, can we go now?" I asked at last. Paul jumped a little and nodded mutely, leading the way to his car.

His car was parked a little ways away, and by the time we reached it my head had begun to spin. I had to stop myself from grabbing on to his arms, he was walking so close I could feel his body heat radiating off of him. The car itself was a truck; my car naming skills couldn't get me any farther than that. It was painted a dark red, but looked fairly new. Paul opened the door for me and I clambered into the passenger seat, trying not to drip water onto the leather. He started the car and a rumble rose up, making my body vibrate slightly. After a few minutes of him fiddling with the heat we began to drive, me staring out of the window and him staring at the road.

"Why don't you like me?" He asked suddenly, making me jump. I turned slowly to look at him, but didn't answer. His eyes were staring straight ahead, but his body seemed to be centered towards me.

He was still waiting for a response, so I forced myself to open my mouth. "It's not that I don't like you…"

He let out a dry laugh. "Could've fooled me."

"We just met a few days ago…" I tried again, but it sounded lame even to me.

"I imprinted on you," he said simply.

I flinched at the words. "No you didn't," I whispered, knowing he could hear me.

"I did," he said, his hands squeezing the steering wheel tighter. "There's no use denying it. How come you don't feel it too?"

"I'm just, not very good imprint material," I murmured, refusing to look at him.

"How's that?"

"I just…I just…trust me, you don't want me to feel it too."

He laughed again. "You think I want this? You think I chose this? I didn't want anything to change, I was perfectly happy with the way things were. It's your fault I have this problem in the first place, if you hadn't come we would both still be fine."

His words stung, and I burrowed tighter into the seat, no longer caring about the leather. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't have a choice either."

"Well you have a choice now," he insisted. "You could make this easier on both of us. If you would only go with it, it wouldn't hurt half as much. But you barely talk to me!"

"I'm sorry," I whispered again. "I'm sorry I just…don't know what to do."

"Treat me like the rest of the pack at least," he suggested as we pulled into Emily's driveway. "Talk to me, hang out with me, stop making this so awful."

I nodded my consent, opening the door before he had even pulled to a stop. "I'll do that," I promised. "I'll treat you like everyone else, I promise." As I walked away I turned back to the truck and smiled at him, my first act of friendship.

**Thanks so much for all of the reviews; they really mean a lot. If I could get to 25 reviews before my next post that would be great, and 28 would mean an earlier post. **

**For all of those interested in Harry Potter: I have started a small three-shot about Draco and Ginny, and it would be awesome if someone would check it out.**


	7. Beaches and Bad Metaphors

**I only own what you don't recognize. **

Chapter Six

Beaches and Bad Metaphors

I stared at the phone, willing it to ring. I had locked and barricaded my door so no one could interrupt if she actually did call. Yesterday Cat had said she would call around 3:00, so I had camped out in my room at 2:30 just in case she called early. I hated being so dependent on anyone, especially a girl, but whenever she so much as smiled at me I could feel my heart soar. Over the past week I had spent every second I could with her, which wasn't much seeing as she was determined to stay 'just friends'.

A shrill ring interrupted my thoughts and I dove forward, grabbing the phone and frantically hitting the on button. "Hello?" My voice came out breathy, and I winced at how stupid I sounded.

"Paul?" Embry choked on laughter.

"What?" I snapped. Why was that idiot calling me? What if Cat called and the line was busy?

"I was just wondering if you wanted to come down to the beach with the guys and me."

"I'm busy."

"Doing what?" Embry sounded disbelieving, something that annoyed me to no end.

"None of your business!" Why couldn't he just get off the phone already? Cat could call anytime!

"Okay, but Cat said that-"

"Cat said? When did you talk to Cat?" I hated how desperate my voice sounded, but I had to know.

"She's coming with us. She's the one who had me call to invite you, do you think I would willingly ask you to spend time with me?"

I ignored the sarcasm in his voice, I was too happy to be mad. Cat had invited me to the beach! She had done it through Embry, but still! "I'll be there as soon as I can," I said, hanging up before Embry could make another one of his smart remarks.

I ran to my truck at inhuman speed, brushing past my dad with a shout of "Going out!" and jumping into the driver's seat. The truck took an entire 30 seconds to start, and then it took even longer to back out of the driveway.

By the time I reached the beach I was literally pounding the dashboard with impatience, and it got a few new dents. It wasn't anything new, my dad had long ago learned to get insurance on anything that came within ten feet of me.

Cat was standing with Embry, Quil, and Jared by the sea, all wearing swimsuits except for Jared. I stopped and stared just a bit when I saw Cat. She was skinnier than I had thought, wearing a one piece that covered almost everything worth looking at. Still, she had nice legs, and I liked what I saw. A small growl escaped my lips when she threw her head back laughing at something Quil said.

I hurried over to them, making sure to position myself between Cat and the guys.

"Oh hey, Paul!" she greeted me brightly. "I'm really glad you could make it, Embry said that you might not be able to. He said you had some sort of bug?"

"What?" I glared at Embry, who was stifling laughter.

"Yep, you have the lo-ove bu-ug!" Embry gave me a wicked smile and threw his arm around Quil. Together the two serenaded us with the worst rendition of "Love Bug" I had ever heard. And that's saying something, because Jonas Brothers' music was the bane of my existence.

I punched them in the shoulders to get them to shut up, but Cat was laughing her head off.

"That, was amazing," she said once she could speak again. "You have completely redefined how I think of music."

Embry and Quil high-fived while Jared just shook his head sadly. "Look what you've done guys, you've ruined music for her permanently."

Cat gave him a playful shove. "Music was ruined for me when you sang along to Taylor Swift on our way up here. How did you know all of the lyrics anyways?"

Jared shrugged, his ears turning a light shade of pink. "It's one of Kim's favorite songs…"

Cat smirked. "Whatever you sa-ay," she said in a singsong voice. "I'm going into the water now, want to come?"

Embry made a face. "Seeing as what happened last time…no thanks."

"What happened last time?" I demanded.

"We went to the beach a few days ago, when you were on patrol," Cat said. "Embry's just mad because I accidentally threw a crab at his face."

"Accidentally?" Embry spluttered. "You slung it right at me!"

Cat shrugged innocently. "I felt it with my toes and thought it was a shell, so I bent to pick it up. When it pinched me I kind of panicked, and you were the closest person around."

"I'm still not going in."

Cat gave a huff of annoyance. "Fine, be like that. Quil?"

"Not after the sea gull incident."

"But the sea gull was just being friendly!" Cat protested, but Quil remained resolute.

"Jared?" she asked hopefully.

Jared gestured towards the suit he was wearing. "I'm meeting Kim later on, I can only stay for a little while and I don't want to get my hair wet."

Cat turned to me, but before she could open her mouth Embry stopped her. "We need to talk to Paul some, why don't you go in for a little while and then he'll join you?"

Cat rolled her eyes and turned around. "Babies," she muttered, stomping away across the sand, her feet sinking deep into the grainy substance.

After she was out of hearing distance Quil began to speak. "Look man, we need to talk to you about Cat."

"What about her?" I asked; my eyes trained on her receding form.

"She's not like the other girls you date."

I gave a low chuckle. "You got that right. Reason number one, I'm not actually dating her."

"That's not what I mean," Quil said. "She's not a one time thing like all of those girls were. You can't mess it up this time."

"I never messed it up in the first place!" I shouted. "_I _dumped _them_."

"That doesn't mean you didn't mess up," Embry pointed out. "You dumped them for stupid reasons. _Oh, she's changed!_" He mimicked my voice. _"She's gone and done what every single person does, and changed her personality or her looks or her favorite color. I suppose I'll just have to break up with her now, nothing to be done for it._"

"Shut. Up," I growled, crossing my arms and staring straight ahead at Cat. She had waded pretty far out into the ocean, and was doing her best to ride the waves. Her body looked small and breakable against the waves, and I gritted my teeth every time one smashed into her. She wasn't doing very well, for every wave she managed to float over there were five more that submerged her completely.

Quil and Embry continued to talk, but I stopped listening after a few seconds. I got enough of their ceaseless chatter when we were on patrol, and I definitely wasn't going to listen to it voluntarily. Still, I didn't want to stare at Cat too much. I tore my eyes away from her bobbing form and looked along the beach for something to distract myself with.

There wasn't much of anything, for all it was a nice day. The sun had decided to show up for once, and most people had decided to enjoy the weather somewhere other than the regular beach.

Down the sand a bit two small children were building a sandcastle, and a little ways further their parents sat watching them. The circle of logs we used for our bonfire was occupied by a couple of guys who looked like they were from Forks, but besides that the sandy stretch of land was deserted.

My eyes involuntarily wandered back to Cat, and I sucked in a breath when a giant wave crashed down over her, keeping her under for longer than usual. I was just about to rush over when she surfaced, laughing through her coughs.

"Paul, are you even listening to me?" Jared's voice jerked me out of my thoughts and I reluctantly turned to him.

"Um…yeah…you were talking about Kim." It was a safe bet, the only time he wasn't talking to her was when he was actually with her.

"I was saying I have to go now. Honestly man, did you hear a word I said?"

"You have to go on a date…with Kim. So you were talking about Kim," I reasoned, smirking as Jared sighed in defeat.

"Whatever you say. I'll be going now, wouldn't want to keep you from staring at Cat for too long." Jared slapped me on the shoulder and walked away, laughing when I shouted after him that I had just been watching the waves.

"I think I'm going to grab some food," Embry said after a few more minutes. "Coming?"

"Definitely," Quil grinned, taking off to the car. "I'm starving, we haven't eaten since our mid-afternoon snack!"

"I'll stay here," I told Embry when he looked at me questioningly. "Cat might need to leave early or something."

Embry wiggled his eyebrows. "Whatever you say lover boy."

I rolled my eyes as he left, then glanced longingly back at Cat. Maybe I should go over there. She might enjoy the company. It would only be for a few minutes…but I didn't want to seem too desperate. Maybe just a quick hello…

My feet were already carrying me down the beach and into the ocean, ignoring my inner turmoil. The salty water lapped at my bare toes, rising up to my thigh and then my chest as I got farther in. I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, nothing that couldn't get wet.

I reached Cat just as she came up from another wave. Her bright hair was matted down against her face, making it seem more hollow than usual. Still, she was smiling and laughing, which was almost enough to make up for her frail body.

"Did you see that one?" she asked excitedly. "It was practically 9 feet tall!"

"So what made you think you could ride it?" I asked.

She shrugged, bouncing over a smaller wave before coming back down. "I didn't really. But there was no avoiding it."

"You could have just left."

Cat glanced at me in surprise. "Why would I do that? Just because I got knocked over a few times isn't any reason to give up."

"But that wasn't 'a few times', Cat," I pointed out. "The waves are really tall today."

Another wave crashed down over us, dunking Cat but only keeping her under for a few seconds. She spit a bit of water out of her mouth and began to speak again. "But it's worth getting knocked over all those times to enjoy riding the wave. Things aren't any fun if they're easy, because they'll just become the norm. The more you have to fight for it, the sweeter victory is."

"Are you trying to turn this into a metaphor?" I asked suspiciously.

Cat laughed. "Sorry, writer's instinct. But you have to admit, it's a good one, and it's true."

I remained silent. Was it really worth it? What if there wasn't something good at the end? What if you fought and fought and fought, only to find out that you weren't fighting for anything at all?

We stayed there, floating in the waves, for an indefinite amount of time. It might have been only a few minutes, it might have even been an hour, but I didn't care about time passing. For those moments we were infinite, utterly peaceful and separate from the world. That feeling ended when I got hit in the back of the head with a football thrown too hard by the teens from Forks.

I turned to yell at them, but Cat grabbed on to my arm. "It's not worth it," she said quietly. "Come on, let's go walk on the beach some, I'm turning into a prune standing in the water so long.

We waded back to shore, with Cat being hit in the back by a wave and falling every few seconds. She would always pop back up laughing though, and I eventually stopped worrying.

Once we were out of the water we began to walk down the beach, staying in the area that the water occasionally touched, but not in the ocean itself. Cat was like a small child, becoming delighted at the simplest of things.

"Look, a bird feather!" she said excitedly, and knelt down to grab the fluttering feather. She twirled it around for a few seconds, studying it, then tucked it in her hair. "What do you think?" she asked, spinning around.

I gulped. I thought that she looked gorgeous, but I couldn't tell her that. "I think that you're going to get a disease from that," I said instead, quoting something my mother had warned me against time and time again.

Cat just laughed, lightly punching me in the shoulder. "I think I'll be fine."

I raised my eyebrows. "What, you think you're invincible?"

Cat's smile trembled a bit, but I couldn't see why. "No, but, sometimes it's worth the risk, you know?

"A bird feather is worth the risk of disease?"

"Well, not that exactly. It's just, if I'm going to die anyway, I might as well experience everything I can."

"But you have years to do all those things. It's not like you're going to die in a couple of months."

Cat's laugh was high and shrill. "Whatever. Hey, did you see that fish? It jumped like three feet in the air!" And with that, the conversation was over.

We continued on like this, talking occasionally but mostly just enjoying each other's company. At least, I was enjoying her company, she might have just been acting polite. Eventually we ended up back where we had started.

Embry and Quil were waiting there, sitting in the sand and talking about Claire. Quil looked up as we approached and smirked. "Well, what have you two been up to? Nothing too naughty I hope?"

Cat rolled her eyes and laughed. "Well things did get pretty serious for a while there. While we were in the water, _I actually touched his shoulder._ Pretty heavy stuff. Next thing you know we'll be married."

"I'm sure Paul would like that," Embry grinned. "Unfortunately you two lovebirds are going to have to be separated for a little while. I need to get back soon for patrol, and I'm your ride."

Cat sighed and gave me a quick hug, darting away again before I could make it longer. "Alright, if we have to go."

The two of them walked away, leaving Quil and me alone. Quil walked away soon after; a few failed attempts at starting a conversation with me had convinced him I wasn't in the mood to talk.

After a few more minutes spent staring at the ocean I went back to my truck, moving considerably slower than I had been coming up here. I loved spending time with Cat, but after she left I always felt tired and sad. I didn't regret being with her, but I did regret letting myself miss her. Things were getting too serious, and I needed to find a distraction, fast.

**Hey guys. Thanks for all the reviews; they've been really great motivation. As usual, my goal is to reach 31 reviews, and 36 reviews means an early chapter. Thanks to everyone who reads, follows, or favorites this story.**


	8. Nothing At All

**I only own what you don't recognize.**

Chapter 7

Nothing at All

"Cat, do you need anything?" Emily asked.

"Mmpphh."

"Are you hungry?"

"Mmpphh."

"Did something happen at the beach?"

"Mmpphh."

"Are you sure you don't-"

"Emily, I'm fine," I interrupted, propping myself up on my elbows. I had been lying on the couch, staring at a blank TV screen, but apparently that wasn't socially acceptable behavior. It was hard readjusting to being around other people. When I lived with my dad I could do whatever I wanted, he would just continue on with his robotic existence. I had hated it, but at least I could be miserable in peace.

"I'm just going to go up to my room, okay?" I asked, not waiting for an answer as I slid off the couch. Black spots clouded my vision for a few seconds, but disappeared as I started moving. My footsteps echoed throughout the staircase, making the nearly empty house seem even more abandoned. Sam was out on patrol with most of the guys, leaving only Emily and me in the house.

I curled up on my window seat and stared outside, tracing patterns on the fabric beside me. The sun was coming down in rays, falling across the yard and sending shafts of light through the clean cut grass. The tree beside my window swayed gently in the wind, it's twigs brushing up against the house with a light scraping sound.

I felt empty. I knew I should be feeling something. I should be happy that I had a good time at the beach. Or scared that I was getting so close to Paul. Or sad that nothing would ever come of it. But I couldn't feel any of that, just an ache in my chest.

I glanced over at my suitcase. The pills I had stashed in there would 'fix me'. I would be able to feel all of the terrible emotions. In the hospital I was expected to be grateful. 'Oh yay, I can now feel all of my pain and misery, thanks so much guys!' And sometimes it was worth it. I would take all of the hurt to be able to feel anything at all. But now all I wanted to do was sit and be, free from confusing feelings.

But my thoughts wandered, and soon I was thinking about the very thing I wanted to avoid. Paul. I had tried to avoid him, truly I had. But after I agreed to treat him like just another wolf in the pack it had seemed wrong not to talk to him while he was over. And he had been just so fun to talk to, making me forget everything for a few minutes. So of course I called him again, because it was such a rare feeling to be able to forget. And he had been so interesting, and I lost track of time, and there was still so much to say, so of course I had to see him again. And soon I was seeing him at least every day, hating myself for it but unable to stop.

I was being selfish. Selfish and stupid and self-pitying. Marcy always told me that I was too caught up in my problems. I would focus on something that was wrong, no matter how small, and let it consume me until there was nothing else left. I tried to explain about the depression. About how what had been minor when everything was normal had transformed into something that required pills and therapists when the cancer came, but she wouldn't hear any of it. She said I was just making excuses. And maybe I was, because that's what depression does to you. It eats and it eats until it's all you can think about, and soon you don't see the point of doing anything because the depression will always be there, lurking in the back of your mind.

I sighed and rolled off of the window seat. Thinking about it wasn't going to do me any good. I had learned long ago that moping only made it worse. I needed to be doing something.

I turned on my laptop and began to type. I didn't know where I was going with the story, only that I wanted it to mean something. I wanted to make a mark somewhere, and it seemed like my writing was the only real way I could do that. It was turning into a romance, but is seemed the only natural way for the story to go. The two star crossed lovers were coming closer, finding a way to be together despite boundaries. I wrote for about an hour before Emily called me down for dinner. She had only boiled a few noodles, saving most of the food for the boys, who would be coming home later.

The silence was deafening as we ate at the table. Emily kept on opening her mouth to say something, hesitating, and then closing it again. I felt sorry for her, but I didn't want to start a conversation. She would probably just ask questions that I didn't feel like answering, and then the silence would become even more awkward.

Unfortunately, Emily was determined, and finally managed to get out a full sentence. "So how was the beach?"

"Fine," I mumbled, keeping my eyes trained on the food in front of me.

Emily tried again. "What did you do?"

"I swam some…walked on the beach some."

"Did you enjoy hanging out with Paul?" she asked tentatively.

I stiffened. "He was fine."

Emily sighed and set her fork down. "Cat, he imprinted on you."

"But that doesn't make any sense," I protested, the pitch of my voice rising like a whiny child. "Everything you told me about imprinting disproves that. I won't help make a stronger wolf. Emily, after the chemotherapy…I might not be able to make any wolf at all."

"Cat-" Emily started, but I cut her off.

"And let's say I can have children. What kind of mother would I make? I haven't exactly had the best of role models, seeing as my dad is completely out of it and my mom is kind of, you know, dead!"

"You would make a great mother Cat," Emily said, beginning to eat again. "You were a wonderful babysitter."

"Yeah, before."

"Before what?" Emily asked. "How does the cancer change how you are with children?"

"Nothing," I muttered, standing up and putting my plate in the dishwasher. "I'm going to go upstairs."

"You can't avoid this forever Cat!" Emily called after me, but I pretended that I couldn't hear her.

I stayed in my room, staring at the computer screen but not typing, until the boys arrived home at eight o'clock. I could hear their laughter and shouts from my room, but no actual conversation. They were probably having fun. I could probably have fun if I went down there. But my room was safe and familiar and didn't require me to act happy, so I stayed there, my ear pressed against my door to see if I could hear any actual conversations. Paul didn't come up to talk to me, and I didn't know if that made me happy or sad.

By the time they left it was almost midnight, so I took some pills and jumped in bed, pulling the covers over my head. It was awful for a second, and then I was asleep.

My dreams were clearer that night, as if the Rozerum wasn't as strong as usual. I was in the ocean, swaying back and forth in the waves. But they grew bigger and bigger, and soon I was being pounded down every time. I tried to breathe, but water filled my lungs and I choked. Then Paul was there, floating above the water and offering a hand. I didn't even stop to think, it was pure instinct to grab his hand. But the waves were so strong, and suddenly he was sinking with me. My grip on his hand was pulling him down, and I couldn't let go. He disappeared under the water just as my eyes flew open.

Everything was fuzzy, and even when my vision cleared it still had a dream like quality. Paul sat where Marcy had sat before, glaring at me with so much hate that it had to be a hallucination. "Why did you do this to me?" he demanded, his voice muffled as if he was still under water. "Why did you drag me down with you?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but as quickly as I woke up I fell back asleep, collapsing back into the kind of nightmare I was used to. The kind of nightmare I could handle.

The next morning I woke up early as usual, but stayed in bed for several hours. I kept my hands moving, but besides that I just lay there, thinking about nothing. I didn't want to get up. I didn't want to see Emily and Sam and how happy they were. I didn't want to act fine; I just wanted to wallow.

A part of me knew that it was just the depression. I was going through a rough period, and later everything would be fine. But for that to happen I had to get moving. My therapist had been quite clear, the more stuff I did the safer I was. I didn't even have to like it; as long as it took some effort then I would be alright.

"I'll get up in ten seconds," I muttered to myself. "Ten, nine, eight," I tensed. "Seven, six, five, four-" I rolled out of bed before I had even finished counting. If I allowed myself to reach one I might just extend the deadline, it was easier to trick myself into thinking I had more time.

I put more effort into getting ready that morning, trying to convince myself I cared. By the time I got downstairs it was already seven o'clock. Jacob and Seth were eating at the table already, so I slid in beside my cousin and forced myself to eat. I raked my brain for something to do. I didn't want to go to town. Maybe if I could start a new activity…I froze as it hit me. "Hey, Jacob," I said casually. "You ride a motorcycle, right?"

"Yep," Jacob replied, his mouth still full of food.

"How good of a teacher are you?"

**Alright, this chapter is kind of short, but I really wanted to get into what Cat's going through, and expand some on her 'conditions'. The next chapter will have more action, and it'll be a lot longer. I just want to make it clear on reviews, when I say my goal is to reach 36, I don't want 36 reviews. I want 5, which will bring me up to 36. And even if I don't reach my goal, I will sill post on Sundays. So my goal is 36, and 41 means an extra chapter. Thanks to everyone who reads, follows, or favorites this story; I would love to hear from you.**


	9. Favorite Color

Chapter 8

What's Your Favorite Color?

I didn't see Cat for over a week after the beach. It shouldn't have mattered. I shouldn't have been so dependent on some girl, but no matter how many times I told myself that the ache in my chest wouldn't disappear. She called a few times and we talked, but she always seemed to have an excuse as to why I couldn't see her. Apparently she was busy learning some new 'activity' and wanted to surprise me with it.

It wasn't right. I wasn't supposed to be the one who was kept waiting, it was the other way around. I simply didn't work that way. All of my girlfriends in the past had gotten it. They stayed out of my way when I didn't feel like talking to them, and then when I did they were there.

I wasn't going to pretend that I was a model boyfriend. Things went my way or not at all, and girls just had to learn to deal with that. Sure, I could be a jerk sometimes, but there was no way I was going to change for some girl. Those who had gotten that fact the quickest lasted the longest.

Carla Eroh had been the quickest to catch on. We dated for almost five months, a record for me. And even after we broke up, we would still meet up occasionally. Carla came with no strings attached, the perfect stress reliever. I needed a stress reliever if I was going to put up with Cat.

I dialed Carla's number without thinking. By the time I realized what I was doing it was too late to backtrack, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. Cat had made it clear that she wasn't interested in being anything more than friends, so nothing was stopping me from going out with someone. But those thoughts didn't soothe the ache in my chest.

"Hello?" her voice was sickly sweet. It was one of the main things I disliked about her; she was much better when she was silent.

"Hey, Carla. Do you want to go out today?" I said, cutting to the chase. I didn't feel like playing around.

The phone was silent for a second, but then I heard her nervous giggle. "Oh! This is so…unexpected. You know, I'm kind of dating Troy at the moment…"

"I know."

"Oh, well as long as we're clear on that. Where do you want to go?"

I hesitated. The movies seemed to cliché, besides, it would just give me more time to think about Cat. I didn't really want to spend much money on Carla, so that ruled out most of the fancy restaurants in town. "How about Lila's Diner?"

"That sounds great!" Carla giggled again. "Do you want to pick me up, or-"

"Meet me there in half an hour," I said shortly, and then hung up. I didn't want to have to deal with Carla's dad; that would just create questions about why she was going out with someone other than her boyfriend.

I didn't bother to dress up for the date; my jeans and t-shirt would have to be good enough for her. My dad didn't even look up as I grabbed the keys to the truck, so I took that as silent permission to go ahead.

I arrived five minutes late, and after I parked I found Carla sitting by one of the table outside, eyeing a group of boys a few tables away. She looked up as I came near and flashed a bright smile. She had a bit of red lipstick on her teeth.

Carla wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, but she carried herself like she was. Her blond hair hung in curls around her head, although I could see some brown roots. Everyone knew she dyed it, just like everyone knew that her 'tan' came from a spray bottle.

Of course, no one commented on it, they were all too scared. Carla was the queen bee, stalking around town with her followers scurrying after her like eager puppy dogs. She had a way about her that seemed to make people feel inferior. Maybe it was the curl of her lip, or the disdain in her brown eyes, or maybe it was just because she insulted anything that moved. I, however, wasn't intimidated. Confidence kind of came along with the whole 'turn into a wolf at will' thing.

"Hey, baby," she simpered.

"Hey." I sat down opposite of her and began to look through the menu.

"So how's life been treating you?"

"Fine." I was in the mood for a hamburger.

"Anything interesting happen to you?"

"Yep." I wasn't sure if I wanted pickles or not. Sometimes they were good, but they could also be really sour. Maybe if I got ketchup too the sourness would go away.

"Well what was it?"

"What was what?" Then again, ketchup might ruin the taste of the bacon.

"The interesting thing that happened to you!"  
"Oh. Emily's cousin moved in." I would just get all the toppings; it would be easier that way.

"Is he nice?"

"It's a she." I snapped the menu shut and motioned for a waiter.

"Well is _she_ nice?"

"One sec, let's order." I gave my order right away, but it took Carla some time. I couldn't see why, there had been plenty of time to think about the meal while she was talking to me.

After the waiter walked away Carla tried to make conversation again. "So what's Emily's cousin like?"

I grimaced. How had we gotten to this topic of conversation? The whole point of going out with Carla was so that I could _avoid_ thinking about Cat! "What does it matter? She's not here, it's just the two of us."

Carla smiled at my answer. "Just making sure I don't loose you, baby."

"You and I are not going out," I said firmly. "Besides, you're with Troy. It doesn't matter who I hang out with."

Carla pouted, sticking out her lower lip in a way that was probably supposed to look cute. "Come on, baby, don't be like that."

At that moment the waiter arrived with our food, so I wasn't forced to answer that ridiculous statement. 'Don't be like that.' And how exactly was I supposed to be? I didn't change for anyone, I had made that clear before, and Carla had another thing coming if she thought this time was any different.

I tried to stay focused on my food, but my thoughts kept on straying to Cat. What was she doing right now? What if she called and I wasn't there? What if she had already called? What if she thought- No. I didn't care about Cat. I cared about Carla.

"So, Carla, how's it been?" I asked awkwardly.

Carla, who had been picking at her salad, immediately looked up at the sound of my voice. "Oh, it's been wonderful, although Dad is bugging me about college again. I keep on telling him that I'll do it when I'm ready, but noooo. Apparently eighteen is too old to hang around home. You're lucky; your parents accept the fact that you want to stay here."

I shrugged. My parents only accepted it because I had to guard the tribe along with the rest of the pack, but I couldn't tell Carla that. "Yeah, well…" I let my sentence trail off.

Carla didn't notice; she was already talking about herself again. "And it's like, so unfair that Grace doesn't even have to think about college, but her parents got her a car!"

"I thought you got a car too."

"Well, yeah, but I have to think about college, duh. And it's not even like a good car." Carla said, abandoning her food to examine her nails.

"I thought it was a convertible," I said, trying to sound interested.

"Yeah, but it like, came out an entire three years ago. And it's not even a nice shade of red. And Daddy says that if I go over my spending limit again he'll take my credit card away! And then I'll have to _work_ for money." Carla shuddered at the thought. "It's so unfair. I didn't even go over by that much, just a few hundred dollars. Daddy explodes at the littlest things, it's crazy."

I nodded at that. "Yeah, my parents are always over reacting when I-"

"And then he had the nerve to tell me I need to get my priorities straight! It's like, seriously? I think I know my own priorities, and I've been fine so far," Carla interrupted, completely ignoring me. "It's just sooo horrible, sometimes I can't stand it. And they wonder why I come home from parties drunk! It's so stupid, why can't they see how misunderstood I am?"

I sighed and leaned back in my chair as Carla rambled on about how awful and unfair her life was. Now I remembered why I broke up with her. The girl could talk, and talk, and talk, and talk. She was so much better when her mouth was on mine and not running. Maybe things would get better if I went home with her after this…I gasped at the sharp pain in my chest.

Carla looked at me briefly with concern, and then continued to talk. I rubbed my chest ruefully. That hadn't even been the worst part. I could stand physical pain just fine. But when I had thought of leaving with Carla, I had imagined how Cat would react. I imagined hurting her, and it hurt me. And that wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to feel bad about just considering something.

I tried to focus in on Carla again, drowning Cat from my thoughts.

"And I was like, 'what?' And then she was like 'you heard me.' And then I was thinking, 'oh no, this just got personal. So I say to her-"

I tuned out again. After just a few seconds of hearing Carla I could already predict where this story would go. Some unsuspecting girl had said something that Carla had taken as an insult. It turned into a catfight, and poor Carla was unfairly blamed for making the girl bleed with her fake nails. I had heard something along those lines a million times.

It seemed like that was all we ever talked about, what had happened to Carla. Sometimes I would talk, but I would just be spouting random words while Carla pretended to listen. I doubted she even knew my middle name. Come to think of it, I didn't know her middle name. I barely knew anything about her. All she talked about was herself, and I couldn't even think of her favorite color.

Cat liked the color blue, because it reminded her of the ocean and the sky. She had never had a pet, but always liked dogs. She wanted to go to Europe when she was older. Her hero was John Green. I could write a paper on Cat.

What could I say about Carla? That she dyed her hair and faked a tan? That she hated her parents? How had we dated for so long and not learned a thing about each other?

"Carla, what's your favorite color?" I asked, cutting into her sentence.

She stopped, stared at me for a second, and then hesitantly began to speak again. "Um, purple I guess. It's the color of royalty you know. I had Daddy paint my room purple because…"

Carla started to ramble on again. I waited for her to ask me what mine was, but the question never came. She just didn't care. And I couldn't find it in myself to care that she liked purple. Why did we pretend to like each other if we couldn't be bothered to care about simple things like that? Was the physical aspect of the relationship all she really cared about?

I stopped myself. Of course it was. Of course it was only the physical part, it had always been that way. I had felt that way too. So when did I start caring about more than that?

I spent the rest of the meal trying to steer my mind away from difficult questions like that. Carla kept on talking, and I kept on nodding and occasionally grunting in pity, until both of us were finished. I silently paid for the meal and we both stood.

"So," said Carla, suddenly flirtatious again. "This was fun."

I nodded. "Yep."

She rocked back and forth on her feet. "I was thinking, maybe if you don't have anything else to do…"

She let her sentence hang in the air, but I didn't help her out. I wasn't playing games, she would just have to come out and say whatever she wanted to say.

Carla put her hands on her hips. "So do you want to go home and have some fun? We just have to be done by five; I have a date with Troy."

The offer didn't have any appeal. Even though I hated Carla's personality, I usually loved her body. But I just didn't want to. I'd rather go home…find out what Cat was doing…maybe talk to her a bit…

I didn't like being dependent on her. But I preferred it to Carla. "I'm actually kind of busy," I said.

Carla raised her eyebrows. "Doing what?"

I shrugged. "I'm sure I'll think of something." I walked away, leaving her with her mouth hanging open. She had been getting on my nerves, and it felt good to finally shut her up. I got back into my truck and drove over to Sam and Emily's house.

Someone, probably Jake, was sitting on a motorcycle in the driveway, so I had to park on the side of the street. I walked up, preparing to shout at him for taking up too much space. And then he turned around. It wasn't a he; it was Cat.

I stared at her, not comprehending what I saw. "What are you doing?" I spluttered.

Cat turned to look at me, and her smile almost made my heart stop. She was so beautiful, especially compared to Carla. Her beauty was real, not something that could be found in a bottle. "I'm riding a motorcycle," she said brightly.

"You-you're what?! Do you even know how to ride a motorcycle?" I demanded.

She laughed. "Well duh. I mean, I didn't, but Jacob taught me. So now I'm borrowing his motorcycle to go for a ride."

I could feel my hands start to shake. "Jacob taught you?" How could he be so stupid? There were so many things that could go wrong, she could crash, or get in a wreck, and it would be all his fault!

Cat didn't notice my growing rage. "Yep. He has experience, you know, with teaching Bella." It was only then that she noticed my trembling body. "You're not going to get mad at Jake, are you? Because it was my idea."

I didn't bother to respond to that. "Cat, you can't seriously be considering this."

She shrugged and started to pull on her helmet. "Of course I am, silly. It's no big deal, I can handle myself."

"Cat-" But she was already gone. I was really shaking now. "Jacob!" I shouted furiously. He was really going to get it when I found him.

**Alright, here's chapter eight. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed this story, it really means a lot. As usual, my goal is to reach 40 reviews, and 45 means an extra chapter. Thanks for reading! **


	10. Change

Chapter Nine

Change

Riding on Jacob's motorcycle had become my own personal therapy session. Whenever I started feeling down, or feeling nothing at all, I would start riding…and I would still feel down or nothing at all. But trying to stay on the road was enough of a distraction to keep me from wallowing in my feelings, so it worked well enough.

This was my third ride, and I was heading towards my normal spot. Jacob had shown it to me; it was a small picnic table near the side of the road, the only spot for a few miles where trees didn't cover everything. It wasn't much, but no one ever went there, so I could be guaranteed privacy.

I liked sitting there, alone with my thoughts, for the most part. I didn't have to pretend for anyone; I could just be myself. And as long as my thoughts behaved, I was perfectly content. It was only when they strayed towards a certain hotheaded wolf that I had a problem.

A part of me wanted to see him. To tell him every little thing that had happened since we last talked. To tell him all the funny stories I had remembered, all of my thoughts worth mentioning. That part of me wanted to listen to him talk for hours on end, to know all that there was about him.

But there was another part that stopped me. That reminded me exactly why I couldn't get too close to him. The part that was scared he would see me for who I really was, and reject me for it. It felt like a constant battle, to talk to Paul or to not talk to Paul. I still didn't know which side was winning.

I convinced myself that I wanted to surprise Paul to buy myself time. I was preparing to show him my motorcycle skills, not avoiding him. I almost tricked myself into believing it sometimes.

When he saw me on the motorcycle, I still tried to avoid him. I couldn't think of any more excuses, so I ran. But his face was burned into my thoughts, taking over. It was a good thing the road was empty, because I probably broke every traffic law imaginable trying to get him out of my head.

When I finally reached the picnic table I nearly fell off the bike as I tried to stop. I wrenched off my helmet and set it in the grass, and then looked around. It looked the same as always.

Trees towered over the clearing, making it seem like a permanent dusk. The grass was old and yellow, filled with weeds and wildflowers. There used to be trash, but I had cleaned up on my second visit. The table itself wasn't much to look at. The wood had nearly turned green from years of exposure to the elements, and every time I sat down I felt like I was about to fall. I loved the place.

I sat on the bench facing the road and began to trace patterns into the woodwork. It was an easy way to remain moving but rest at the same time, and I had started to make a habit of it. Each time I would try to find a new pattern, and so far I had been successful. Of course, I had only been out there twice, so I couldn't really be one to talk.

I don't know how long I sat there. There was no way of telling time, and even if there was I felt separate from it. Time occurred with change, and everything stayed the same by the picnic table. At least, it did until I heard the roar of the motorcycle.

I should have known who it would be. I should have at least had a suspicion. I had left Paul standing in the driveway, fuming, and refused to answer his questions. Of course he would come after me. It all made sense looking back. But at the time I couldn't piece together why the motorcycle stopped on the road beside me, or why the rider got off and stalked towards me, until he took off his helmet.

Paul was angry. According to Jacob, Paul was always angry, but I had only seen him like this when I was cliff diving. His body was wracked with tremors, and I could tell by the firm set of his jaw that he was trying not to shout. He did not succeed.

"What do you think you're doing?" he roared, moving until he was standing right above me.

"Sitting?" I held his angry glare with my own, willing myself not to look away. I couldn't be weak, not in front of him.

Paul closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but when he opened them there was just as much anger as before. "And why," he forced through clenched teeth, "are you sitting at a table, in a place that you just happened to reach by _riding a motorcycle_?"

"Maybe because, oh I don't know, I felt like riding a motorcycle?"

"You felt like riding a motorcycle?!"

"I believe that's what I said," I replied calmly.

"You could have been killed!"

"So could you," I pointed out. "You rode a motorcycle to get here, just like me."

"That's different," Paul snapped.

"Really? Enlighten me, how exactly is it different?" I asked, clasping my hands beneath my chin and looking up at him expectantly.

"Well, for starters I actually know how to ride a motorcycle."

"I know how to ride a motorcycle, Jacob taught me."

Paul's jaw flexed, and he looked away angrily. "Jacob," he muttered.

I nodded. "Yep. He showed me this place too. Is that how you found me, by asking him?"

Paul nodded, and I sighed. Jacob had told me that the picnic table was private, not that he would go around blabbing about it to everyone within hearing distance. "Traitor," I muttered.

Paul smirked at that. "We actually did a trade. The information, for his life."

"Why did you even care?" I asked. "Aren't I allowed to have some alone time once in a while?"

"You've had at least a week, Cat."

"That wasn't alone time," I said. "I was with Jacob."

Paul frowned at that. "Well you weren't with me, so it should count."

I shifted away from him. "You have no idea how arrogant that sounded."

Paul shrugged. "It's still true."

"You're being a jerk."

"Deal with it."

I stood up abruptly and walked over to Jacob's motorcycle. I was just beginning to climb on when a hand closed around me arm. I spun around, and came face to face with Paul.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Leaving," I said. "You told me to deal with it, so I am. The best way for me to deal with you being a jerk is to go away."

Paul pulled me back to the picnic table. "Alright, let me reword that. Get over it."

I was starting to get annoyed. Not very much, but Paul's attitude rubbed me the wrong way. A part of me was grateful; his behavior was slowly thawing out my frozen emotions. But most of me was just irritated that he was being a jerk.

I sat back down and positioned myself so my back was facing Paul. I mentally counted down in my head. _Five, four, three, two-_

"What're you doing?" Paul demanded.

I allowed myself a small smile. "I'm getting over it. You irk me, so the best way to get over it is to ignore you."

There was silence as Paul mulled that over. "That's not what I meant," he said at last.

"Hate it for you," I smirked.

Paul walked around the table until he was standing in front of me again. "I want to talk to you," he said, crouching down so that he was sitting on the grass. His big brown eyes were so pitiable that I couldn't help but give in.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked.

He looked startled, as if he hadn't expected to get this far. "Well, um, why are you acting like this?"

"Like how?"

Paul frowned. "Just…like this. You're always doing something wild."

I gave a short laugh. "Paul, I'm riding a motorcycle. You do stuff like that all the time, it's not 'wild'."

"It's not just that," Paul protested. "You go cliff-diving, and you stand in the ocean only to get completely pummeled by waves, and you just act like you don't care what happens to you."

I shrugged. "It's not that I don't care; I'm just not a worrier."

"It's more than that," Paul insisted. "You're so caught up in the moment that you don't ever think about the future, or the past. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but you've taken it to an extreme. We are more than just 'now', Cat."

I did not want to talk about that. I didn't want to talk about my problems with the future and past, but Paul was staring at me so stubbornly that I had to say something.

"We spend so much time thinking about the future," I began. "We have goals, and dreams, and a plan. Even if it's an awful plan, or just a 'make it through high school' plan, we still have an idea of where we're going. We're taught about this generic lifestyle, how we're going to get out of school and find a job, and achieve everything that we have the ability to. But no one ever talks about things that could go wrong."

I hesitated, and then continued to talk. "No one ever talks about how something could throw a wrench in those plans, make them impossible. People say that you can be whoever you want to be, but what if life gets in the way? What if you loose everything that you've worked for? How are you ever supposed to trust in the future again?"

Paul stared at me, eyes uncomprehending. "You just do. The future's always changing, something is always going to go wrong. That doesn't mean you just give up."

I shook my head wildly. "But what if it's something big that goes wrong? Something that overshadows everything else, until it seems like that's all you are? You can't just move on from that!"  
"Yes you can," Paul insisted. "What else are you supposed to do, wallow in self-pity? That won't do any good!"

"Exactly! So you live in the moment, and forget about the future, and the past, so you won't get hurt again!"

This time it was Paul that shook his head. "No, you don't forget about the past. The past is stable; the past doesn't change. Remembering the past is what holds you together."

"No, no, no." I said. "Not if the past is what ruined everything in the first place. Not if it hurts too much to remember the past, to remember what might have been."

"But at least the past will still be the past, at least you can trust in it to stay the same."

"You don't understand!" I shouted, standing up. "How can you possibly understand what I'm trying to say, you don't know anything!"  
Paul shot up, his body trembling again. "Oh, I don't understand?" he snarled. "You're right, how could I possibly understand what it's like to go through a humongous change that ruins everything I've planned for? I've only ever turned into a freaking wolf! That's not too big of a change! It's not like I'm stuck here for the rest of my life guarding a stupid tribe from stupid leeches that refuse to die! You think you've got it bad? You have no idea what change is, you have no idea what it's like to loose everything!"

I was too angry to think straight. He had unlocked my feelings, and now they came pouring out, a river of anger and frustration. "I have no idea? You get to turn into an all-powerful wolf at will, you poor thing! I have cancer!"

The words came out before I could stop them, and at the time I didn't want to. I wanted to make him understand. "I've had cancer since I was fifteen years old! Do you want to know how long I was in treatment, Paul? Three. Stinking. Years. That kind of thing puts a bit of a damper on plans for the future! I never finished high school; I had to get a GED. I got a degree from an online college. All of my plans for the future, down the drain. Everything I planned for, gone. But it hardly matters, because I'm not even cured! The symptoms are gone, but they could come back at any time! You think you know change Paul? You know nothing!"

I screamed the last sentence, pushing around him and running to the motorcycle. I scrambled onto it, not bothering with Jacob's helmet, and got it started as fast as I could.

Tears clouded my vision as I rode away, but I didn't care. I kept on waiting, waiting for something to happen. Waiting to hear the roar of a motorcycle as he came after me. He never did.

**Here's the next chapter. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed this story, it's great to hear from you. As usual, my goal is to reach 47 reviews, and 52 reviews means an early chapter. Thanks again for reading.**


	11. Not Just Cancer

Chapter Ten

Not Just Cancer

My body switched to autopilot after Cat's revelation. It was like a self-defense mechanism. I wouldn't be able to handle thinking about what she said, so I didn't. I just stood there, staring at the spot where she had stood before, a part of me vaguely registering that she had ridden away.

It was the setting sun shining in my eyes that made me leave. I might have stayed there forever if the sharp glare hadn't forced me to look away. I still didn't think, only climbed on my bike and rode away. I didn't speak to anyone when I got home; I skipped dinner and went straight to bed, falling into unconsciousness almost instantly. If I had dreams I couldn't remember them.

By the next morning the numbness had worn off. I understood exactly what Cat had said, but I wished I didn't. I wished that things could go back to the way they had been yesterday, with her being different but amazing, and me being blissfully unaware. Now, she was something else.

I wouldn't be able to treat her the same, not after what I had learned. Because Cat was laughter, and innocence, and _forever_. She was not just another life that could be snuffed out as easily as blowing out a candle. She was not _disease._ I saw her as something different now, and I knew she would hate me for it.

So I did the only thing I could, I avoided her. I didn't go over to Sam's place like I usually did, instead I stayed locked in my room. Every half hour or so the phone would ring, but I ignored it. If it was Cat, I couldn't bring myself to talk to her, and if it was anyone else I didn't care enough to answer.

My plan was working fine until Jacob canceled for patrol. I never learned his reason, but it was enough to make Sam let him off, which was a miracle unto itself. Unfortunately, that meant I was alone with the fiancé of the cousin of the girl I was trying to avoid. _Fun._

Things seemed to be going all right at first. Sam and I split up and began to go up and down the borders, both of us concentrating on the array of scents. It was only once he was sure that the place was free of leeches that Sam addressed me in his thoughts.

_Cat seemed upset when she got home yesterday._

_ Did she?_ I tried to keep the memories of yesterday at bay.

_Yes._ His thoughts were filled with disapproval. _Would you care to tell me why she's refusing to talk to anyone?_ It was not a question.

I considered holding back, but Sam's thoughts were so open and expectant. I was tired of holding back; I just wanted to give him my problems so that he could fix them. He was the leader of my pack; he should be able to make it better. He should be able to unravel all of my confusion and anger and tell me how I should be acting. The memories came pouring forth: following her on my motorcycle, screaming at the top of my lungs, and then the revelation.

Sam was silent throughout all of it, but I could tell by his lack of surprise that he had known about Cat's cancer all along.

_Why didn't anyone tell me?_ I asked. Most of the anger had been drained from my thoughts while I retold what had happened, all I could summon up now was resentment.

_Cat specifically asked us not to say anything about her cancer before she came._ Sam explained. _She moved here to get away from everything, and she thought that if everyone knew about it, she would be treated differently. Was she wrong, Paul?_

I ignored his last question. Of course she would be treated differently, because she _would_ be different. _But why didn't you tell me after the imprint? Aren't I supposed to know everything about her? That's a pretty big detail to leave out!_

_ I decided to leave it to Cat to tell you. It's her life, and she has the right to disclose information at her will. And I'm not surprised she was hesitant to tell you, look at your reaction! She wants to be treated normally, and you're doing the exact opposite of that._

_ But how am I supposed to treat her the same?_ I demanded. _She's something different now. She's got cancer!_

_ She isn't just her cancer, Paul. That's just a part, a part you should be able to ignore._ I say a flash of Emily's scars cross Sam's mind. It had taken Sam a long time to get over the harm he had caused her, but now he acted as if he couldn't even see them. Still, cancer was entirely different than scars.

_Whatever._ I tried to ignore Sam for the rest of patrol, focusing on the ground underneath my snout. Once we were done, I declined his invitation to go back to his house. Cat would be there, and I still couldn't deal with her. Instead, I holed up in my room once again.

Occasionally my mother would ask if I needed anything, but I just waver her away. I had taken to staring at the phone as it rang, trying to memorize the way her name looked on the Caller ID. If I tried hard enough, I could almost imagine that I heard her laughter in the ringing of the phone. Obviously, I was going insane.

"Paul."

It was getting worse, now I thought I was hearing her voice. Didn't insanity come with side effects? Shouldn't I have noticed before?

"Paul."

Cat, or the Cat inside my head, was getting annoyed. How was it possible that a figment of imagination could be annoyed with me?

"Paul!"

Oh great, now my head was shouting at me. Weren't there pills for this?  
"Paul, turn around. Now."

I wasn't sure if I should be obeying the voices inside my head, but I didn't really have anything else to do, so I turned around.

Cat was standing directly outside of my window, looking extremely irritated. Jacob's motorcycle was on the street in the background. I was going to kill him. I tripped over every object in my room as I hurried to the window, yanking it up and staring at her in disbelief.

"How did you find my house?" I spluttered.

She shrugged, making her bright red hair bounce. "Jacob told me."

"I'm going to kill him…twice," I muttered.

Cat ignored that comment. "We need to talk."

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

Cat's mouth twisted up into a small smile. "It feels more like a slew of epigrams."

"What?" I asked, leaning back against the edge of my bed.

"SAT word, look it up. The point is, we need to talk for real. Like, an actual conversation."

"Weird, I thought that you didn't want to talk before. What was I? Oh yes, just another part of the pack. Well now I'm just another part of the pack that really doesn't feel like talking to you."

Cat sighed and rubbed her forehead, resting her elbows on the windowsill and leaning forward. "Look. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the cancer before. But can't you see why? The moment you learned about my past you started acting like I'm some completely different person. I'm not just my cancer."

"That's what Sam said," I said quietly.

Cat looked startled, but continued on. "I had cancer, yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm fragile. I'm still me, so why can't you treat me like you did before?"

"But you aren't still you!" I protested. "There's a whole other part of your personality that I don't even know about!"  
"Paul, cancer isn't a personality trait."

"Whatever. The point is; you're different."

"No I'm not!" Cat shouted. "Watch, I'm still the same as always." She did a cartwheel across my yard, falling on her back and looking at me hopefully. "See? I'm clumsy and reckless."

I smothered a snicker, but shook my head. "Doesn't change anything."

She spun in circles and stumbled back to the windowsill. "I can still be weird."

"Sorry."

She frowned, irritation spreading over her face. "What is it going to take to convince you that I'm still me?"

"But you're not still you!" I exploded. "You aren't anything like you were, you're something different now.  
"Oh, is that how it works?" Cat asked, her voice going shrill with anger. "It's not even my cancer that makes me different, it's you knowing about it? Suddenly my identity depends on your perception of it? That's so…so…you jerk!" She slapped me across my face, wincing as her hand made contact with my skin.

I was too surprised to be angry; all I could do was stare at her bright red hand. She had slapped me. She had actually slapped me. No one slapped me. Okay, well a few people had slapped me, but they had all learned it was a bad idea pretty fast. But here she was, this girl who was half my size, glaring at me with a challenge in her eyes.

"Was that my cancer slapping you?" she spat out.

I stood up, rubbing my face to make her feel better. I had barely felt it, but she looked so angry I wanted her to feel like she had caused me some pain. "No, I'm pretty sure that was your crazy mood swing slapping me."

She smiled a bit at that, but quickly frowned again. "Cancer isn't what defines me, Paul. I just wanted you to know that."

"Well I see you believe in using violence to teach. Wasn't that made illegal sometime in the last century?"

She laughed at that, her face smoothing out. "I like to play by my own rules. Did my violence work?"

I nodded seriously. "You've slapped it right into my brain."

"Great." Cat leaned into my room and gave me a quick hug before running back to a motorcycle parked on the side of the road. She clambered onto it, almost falling off a few times. I looked away, laughing quietly to myself before closing the window.

**You guys are amazing. Two days, and I already reached my goals. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, and to all those who read, followed, or favorited. Here's the early chapter, Paul's reaction and such. As a Valentine's treat, tell me what fun activity you'd like to see Paul and Cat doing in your reviews. I'm not promising I'll do all of them, and it might be a while, but I would love to hear from you. Happy Valentine's!**


	12. Picture Perfect Memories

Chapter 11

Picture Perfect Memories

There was something liberating in Paul knowing about the cancer. Before, there had been friends who treated me normally, and friends who knew about my cancer, but no one fell into both categories. It wasn't that they purposefully tried to act different around me; it was a subconscious thing. They acted like they were walking on broken glass whenever they were around me, wincing whenever anyone said anything that might pertain to cancer or death.

But with Paul, it was like nothing had changed. He didn't bother to soften his attitude for me, and I relished that fact. He still didn't know about the depression, but that was a trouble for another day, and I was perfectly happy to put it off. It was like Paul had said; I lived in the moment and never stopped to worry about the future.

He had said a lot that made me think that day. And of course, I had retaliated with one of my biggest secrets. It hadn't been like I imagined it. Not that I imagined telling him about it often. I had just always pictured it as something close and intimate, a deep secret shared in a moment of trust, not as just another comment used in a screaming match.

Still, it was hard to realistically imagine it any other way. Paul and I were not the trusting, close type. There were special moments, moments that made me want to stay locked in time forever, but those were few and in between. I couldn't say that I minded, too much of a good thing always took away the thrill.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Talking to, just being around Paul was good. Of that I was certain. And it never grew old, every time he smiled at me my heart would skip a beat, every time we laughed together I felt like I was on top of the world.

The days began to melt together, becoming a blur of laughter and talk and feeling absolutely _right_. Picture perfect memories. There were dark moments, just like always, but I found that they were easier to handle. But they did not disappear. They did not go away, just because I felt happy. There were still times when I did nothing but sit in my room, not feeling anything. There were still times when the hopelessness of it all came crashing down on me, and I wanted nothing more than to end everything. But the pills helped, just like they always did, and I learned to live with it.

Some days were better than most. Like when Paul took me out to dinner, assuring me at least three times that it wasn't a _date_. And just to make sure, he made me draw up a list of requirements of what would qualify as a date. As a result, he made me walk all the way to the restaurant, insisted that I would pay, and came in clothes that he had pulled out of the laundry hamper.

When I finally made it to the restaurant, panting and sweating like a pig, his words of greeting were, "You're late."

"Thanks," I said dryly. "You know, I really don't think this is completely necessary. You could have just said it wasn't a date and left it at that."

Paul shrugged. "I like to be thorough."

"Can we just go in?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

Paul stared at me for a few seconds. "Well?" he demanded. "Aren't you going to get the door? I'm not doing it."

"This is more like gender reversal," I muttered, going in and making sure to slam the door shut so he would have to get it on his own.

"Can I help you?" the waitress asked, keeping her eyes on Paul and ignoring me. She ran a hand through her dark hair, smiling at him in a way that made it pretty clear what she wanted.

Paul leaned forward, grinning at her through half-closed eyes. "A table for two. Three, if you have a break soon."

The waitress gave a high-pitched laugh and took us to a table near the back. As soon as she was gone I smacked Paul in the arm.

"What?" he asked, for some reason rubbing his chest instead of the arm I had hit. "This isn't a date, so it only makes sense that I flirt with her."

I raised my eyebrows, trying to quell the sense of jealousy I felt. "Fine. Does that mean I can go over and talk to the cute guy three tables down?"

Paul's head whipped around, and he glared daggers at the boy in question. "No. Definitely not."

"But I thought you said it wasn't a date?"  
"It's still rude to go flirt with someone else…" Paul snapped his mouth shut, realizing what he had just said. "Whatever. I'll stop flirting with her."

"So sweet of you," I simpered.

The rest of the evening passed in that matter: petty arguments, jokes, and Paul repeatedly trying to discourage the waitress. I didn't feel too sorry for him when she purposefully spilled a pitcher of water on him; it was his own fault for telling her that he had only flirted with her because he hadn't noticed her face yet.

He conceded to driving me back to Sam's, but only because it was after dark. In lieu of a goodnight kiss he lightly punched me in the arm, and I returned the favor by 'lightly' stomping on his foot.

Apparently our non-date went well in Paul's eyes, because we went to the beach a week later. It was in the evening, Paul had patrol in the afternoon, so the place was almost completely deserted. We didn't do much talking, just lay on the sand, throwing rocks into the ocean and seeing how many times they would skip.

Everything felt so easy with him, but hard at the same time. It made no sense, even in my head, but I couldn't think of any other way to explain it. Being with him felt natural, but it was so hard to hold back, to keep from getting too close. The thoughts in my head swirled around, leaving me even more confused than before. I needed to say something, to somehow distract myself.

"Have you ever thought much about death?" I asked hesitantly. I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. _Wow Cat, great choice. Now the conversation's sure to be happy._

Paul looked at me sideways, but didn't stop throwing rocks. "Um, no not really. What about it?"

I shrugged, part of me wanting to leave it at that, and part of me wanting to continue. The second part won out. "Just, the idea of it. How easily everything can just…end." Paul looked at me strangely but made no comment, and I felt compelled to continue. "It's just, the human body is so frail. All these delicate chemical balances, and it can so easily be disrupted. There are so many ways we can die. Suffocation, drowning, blood loss, diseases, wounds, old age. The possibilities are endless, and…and…" I struggled to find the words for what I wanted to say. I had never shared these thoughts with anyone, and it was hard. "Death is unavoidable, everything ends. We're always working so hard to survive, but eventually everyone dies. So sometimes I wonder, what's the point? Wouldn't it be easier to just…give up?" I noticed Paul's alarmed expression and quickly backtracked. "I mean, I'm not suicidal or anything, I just wonder sometimes."

Paul considered my words for a few moments, abandoning the stones to drag his fingers through the sand. "I guess," he said at long last, "that we keep surviving not to escape death, but just to delay it. Wouldn't it be better to experience things before your life ends? If we don't fight for life, we'll have nothing to show for it in the end."

I nodded slowly. "That's kind of what I've been thinking too. I want to experience everything I can before I die." I said quietly.

We lapsed into silence, watching the sun descend behind the water. The sky was awash in a beautiful array of pastel pinks and oranges, and all I wanted to do was stay stuck in this little moment of time. Paul's hand rested in the sand between us, so close that it would barely take any effort to reach out and grab it, to bring on a whole new set of experiences. But no, that was one experience I would have to live without.

**Hey guys, sorry that it's been a while. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed. My goal for this chapter is to reach 60 reviews, and 70 means an early chapter. Thanks again for reading.**


	13. Old Friends New Enemies

Chapter 12

Old Friends…New Enemies

"I still say that it's impossible to fit _that_ many donuts in your mouth."

"But Paul did it with hotdogs, and they're about the same size."

"Yeah, but he threw up afterwards."

"Still counts."

"No it doesn't."

"Paul said it did, didn't you Paul?"

I glanced up from my cell phone. "What did I say?"

Jacob and Embry both rolled their eyes. "Never mind," scoffed Embry. "You don't have the attention span for us to explain it again. You're too busy texting Cat."

I grabbed a pillow from beside me on the couch and threw it at Embry's head. "No! That would be stupid, she's upstairs."

Jacob raised his eyebrows at me while Embry laughed. "That was just one time!" I groaned. "And it doesn't count, she couldn't come down because she was changing."

"Whatever you say, Lover Boy," Jacob smirked. Unfortunately, there were no more pillows to throw.

"So how _are_ things going with you and the reluctant imprint?" Embry drawled, sounding exactly like one of the gossips from school.

"Fine," I said shortly. "Things are going fine." It sounded more like I was reassuring myself than them.

"Have you made your move yet?" Jacob asked.

"No. I told you, Cat's not interested in a romantic relationship. She just wants to be friends."

Jacob snorted. "Yeah, like that's ever stopped you before."

"Cat's different," I replied steadily, turning my attention back to my phone. I tried to focus on the small screen, but it was impossible to tune out the boy's conversation.

"How long do you think it'll take him to ask her out?" Embry asked loudly.

"I'd give it a week or so. But I'm willing to bet that she'll reject him."

"I'll take that bet," Embry laughed. "She's his imprint, she's got to feel something."

"Yeah, but he's _Paul_." Jacob said it like it was explanation enough for a girl turning me down.

"That's true," Embry mused. "Okay, I'll still take the bet, but only for a very low price. I'm not _that_ confident in Paul's lady skills."

My grip on my phone got tighter and tighter, forcing me to put it down. I had already broken two out of anger; there was no way my dad would pay for a third. I could just break something else…like Jacob's head.

Jacob's head was saved by the sound of someone knocking. I usually made a point of never getting the door when someone else could do it, but I wasn't sure how much more of Jacob and Embry's taunting I could stand.

"I'll get it," I grunted, jogging over to the door.

I pulled it open find myself facing a boy who looked to be about my age. I had caught him right in the middle of knocking, and he almost hit my face. "Can I help you?" I asked, confused. Did someone order a pizza? But he wasn't carrying a box…

He shifted awkwardly, running a hand through tussled brown hair. He didn't look like he was from around here, but maybe he had just moved. "I'm, uh, here to see Catherine?" He said it like it was a question.

"Catherine?"

"Catherine Young," he specified, shifting his weight and trying to look past me.

"Oh, you mean Cat." I said, still not letting him pass. Why would he want to see Cat? How did he even know her?

"Uh, I guess. Is she here?"

"What's it to you?" I asked, putting politeness aside.

"I'm her…I mean I was her…I'm an old friend," he said at last.

I studied him for a few seconds. He looked strong, but I could easily overpower him if I saw the need. "Come on in."

I walked to the stairs, not bothering to see if he followed me. "Cat, some guy's here to see you!" I hollered.

"I'm Trevor," he put in.

"He says his name's Trevor!" I added.

There was a crash and a yelp from Cat's room. "What?! Ask him what he wants! And don't be…like you are."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Trevor. "What do you want?" I asked, even though I was sure he had heard Cat.

"I just wanted to talk to her."

"He says he wants to talk!" I shouted up the stairs.

Cat's panicked voice floated down the stairwell. "Omigosh! Ever heard of calling first Trevor? I have to get ready! I haven't even showered yet…don't leave! I'll be out as soon as I can!"

"You might be here a while," I told Trevor. I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Cat had never acted like they when I came. Sure, I practically lived here, but still! What was so special about this kid anyway?

I led him to the living room, watching him closely as he sat down on the couch. He looked pretty average to me. Short brown hair, light blue eyes, not ugly, but certainly not anywhere close to me. We sat in silence for 15 minutes, neither of us sure what to say. Jacob and Embry were no help; they had moved to the kitchen to test out Embry's donut theory.

Luckily Cat raced down the stairs after a few minutes. I glanced over at her and nearly gasped. Instead of her usual shorts and a t-shirt, she was wearing long jeans and a wavy blue blouse. Her hair was pinned back away from her eyes, and most shocking of all, she was wearing makeup. Makeup! Not a lot, just some eyeliner and lip-gloss, but it still irked me. Why was she getting this dressed up for some guy?

Trevor did a double take when he saw her. He stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes wide. Cat bit her lip, watching him with worried eyes. "Catherine," he said after a few seconds. "You look…great."

She considered him for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Just like that she was back to being regular old Cat. "Oh shut up, Trevor. I look completely different. I dyed my hair for goodness sakes!"

Trevor smiled at her. "Yeah, I can barely recognize you. But besides that, and your new tan, and the fact that you cut off nearly all your hair, you're still the same old Catherine."

She flew into his arms and they hugged for a few seconds too long. I growled, and Cat looked at me for the first time. "Oh!" She pulled out of Trevor's embrace, but still kept close. "Trevor, this is Paul, he's a friend of the family. Paul, this is Trevor."

Trevor nodded to me, but I just glared at him. Now that I knew who he was, I saw no reason to be polite. Trevor ran his hand through his hair again, making me clench my teeth. Did he think that was cool or something?

"So, Catherine. I was wondering if we could, you know, do something to catch up."

Cat smiled brightly. "Sure! I know a great diner in town, but we'll have to take your car."

Trevor slung his arm over Cat's shoulder, and she leaned in to him almost automatically. I started to shake. This could not be happening. What happened to the no dating rule?

The two of them walked to the front door, and for the first time I noticed an old Chevrolet Corvette parked in the driveway. Cat grinned when she saw the car. "You still have that old piece of junk?"

Trevor laughed, pulling out a pair of keys from his pocket. "Yep, she's still running. And if I remember correctly, you owe me twenty bucks. The car did make it through Christmas."

Cat stopped by the door of the car and pouted. "Oh come on, I thought all bets were cancelled when I got cancer." I stiffened to hear her talk about it so freely.

Trevor paused for a second too, then grinned back at her. "Yeah, but you're _cured_. So the bet's back on."

I couldn't take any more of their playful banter. Tremors wracked my whole body. She was mine! Mine! How dare he waltz in and steal her right up from under me? I slammed the door and raced out the door, phasing before I was even completely in the woods.


	14. Not That Simple

Chapter 13

Not That Simple

The car was quiet as we drove, the silence only broken by my occasional directions. I kept on sneaking glances at Trevor out of the corner of my eye, expecting him to disappear every time I looked away. It was like seeing Marcy, only this time I knew he was no hallucination.

I admit; I panicked when I heard Trevor's name. I had freaked out, wondering how he would take my new appearance. To Trevor's credit, he got over it pretty quickly. Maybe I still did look kind of the same, or maybe he was just trying to be polite.

"How did you find me?" I asked, and instantly regretted it. What if he took that the wrong way? It wasn't like I didn't want him here; I was just wondering.

Luckily, Trevor didn't seem to take any offense. "I found the letter from your Aunt Emily confirming your move," he said carefully.

I raised my eyebrows. "And how did you find that?"

"I may have broken into your house," he muttered guiltily.

I couldn't help but laugh; even after all those years he was still the same Trevor. "Well, it's good to see you again. Wait, turn here!"

Trevor hastily spun the wheel and we skidded into the parking lot of Lila's Diner. We didn't talk again until we had taken a seat and ordered.

"I want to talk about the break up," Trevor blurted out at last.

I sucked in my breath, oh dang. Talk about awkward. This might have been easier if we had talked at all in the last two years.

"What about it?" I asked carefully.

"Well, when you broke up with me, you said it was because of the cancer. You said it would be too hard of a commitment, and you didn't want to hold me back. And I understand that. But what about now? I still care about you, Catherine."

I couldn't meet his eyes. "I know, and I still really care about you too. But, I'm not completely better, Trevor."

"What do you mean? They wouldn't have released you otherwise."

"The cancer had some, side effects." I said, choosing my words carefully. I didn't want to freak him out, but I did want him to know the truth. "You know I had some, difficulties before it, and the cancer increased them. I'm okay right now, but definitely not relationship material. You deserve someone who can give as well as receive."

"I won't leave you because of that," Trevor said steadily, but I could hear the hesitation in his voice.

I shook my head firmly. "It's not like you'll be dumping me, we're already broken up. Besides, I want you to be happy. Don't let me stop you from seeing other girls."

Trevor nodded and looked down, but I saw a hint of his relief in his eyes. "Oh my gosh!" I squealed, clapping a hand over my mouth. "There is another girl!"

Trevor's eyes widened. "What? N-no!"

I dropped my hand, revealing my large grin. "Don't lie to me; it won't do any good. This is so great! Tell me all about her! What's her name? Is she cute? Have you two been on an actual date yet, or just hung out?"

Trevor turned bright red. "It's nothing, really. I hardly know her, and that's not the only reason I came."

I waved away his protests. "Of course not, I don't think that badly of you. In fact, I think you're a perfect gentleman for coming to see me first. But enough of that, tell me about her!"

Trevor was saved by the arrival of our food, but I kept on pestering him throughout the entire meal. "Alright!" he said at last. "Her name is Kathleen."

I smiled and bounced in my seat. "This is so great! Tell me everything. And how are the others doing? Did Samantha make it into USC? Who's with who?"

And then the questions really came pouring forth, everything that I had wondered while lying in the hospital bed. "What was senior prom like? What about graduation? Were the classes hard? Did you like the teachers? Do you think they would have liked me? Did Thomas ever ask Emma out?"

The rest of the meal was spent with Trevor filling me in on almost everything I had missed during those three years. It was nice to know what had happened, but I couldn't ignore the growing ache in my chest. Why couldn't I have experienced any of those things? Why was I the one with cancer?

Trevor was oblivious to my discomfort, and I could only be glad for that. This would be even harder if he saw me cry. I nodded and laughed in all the right places, but on the inside I was slowly cracking.

Trevor insisted on paying the bill, which was good seeing as I didn't actually have any money. It grew harder and harder to keep up the façade as we drove closer to Emily's house. I wanted so badly to tell him to stop. To say that yes, I did want to get back together. I wanted to go back to normal. I wanted to be the girl I was before. I fiddled with the bandannas on my wrists; those alone should have been enough of a reminder that I couldn't be with him.

I smiled as best I could as we pulled into the driveway, giving him a one armed hug and running out of the car before he could see the tears welling up in my eyes. I ignored Emily's questions and flew up to my room, locking the door before letting the tears flow freely.

It was unfair. It was all so unfair, and stupid, and utterly pointless. I shouldn't have had to turn him down. I should be able to be happy, with him, or whoever I wanted. I was tired of acting alright; I just wanted things to be better. I wanted Paul to come in, and fix it all, and understand why I held back. I didn't want to have to hold back; I wanted to let go.

Maybe that was why I told him he could come in when he knocked. I was tired of keeping my distance, and too selfish to remember how much I could hurt him.

He looked like a mess when he came in. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and there was dirt smudged all over his sweat pants. Maybe he had gone on patrol, maybe something had angered him so much he had phased. But I didn't get the chance to ask, because the moment he saw my tears he was at my side.

"Did he hurt you?" he growled, starting to tremble. "Did he make you cry? I'll kill him."

"No," I sniffed, trying to wipe my tears away with the back of my hand. "No, it's not his fault. I made myself cry."

"Why?" Paul pressed. "Did he make you make yourself cry?"

I would have laughed if I didn't feel so awful. "No, no, I'm just sad; that's all."

"Well, why are you sad?"

"I just…miss him. I miss what we had."

Paul's jaw flexed in anger. "Why do you miss him? What's so great about him anyway? You don't need him."

"It's not just that," I said, ignoring Paul's jab at my ex. "I just miss what my life was like before. I miss all of my old friends, and, and I just wish that I hadn't lost it all, hadn't missed so much of it in the hospital."

"Well, if you miss it so much, why did you come here?" Paul asked, and then froze. A look of horror crossed his face and he quickly backtracked. "Not that I don't want you here! I'm really glad you came here. I just…what I'm trying to say is…"

"It's okay, Paul," I said, managing a small smile. "I know you didn't mean it like that. I came here because I couldn't handle it back home. Too many memories. I couldn't face it all, knowing how much I had changed."

"But you didn't change," Paul insisted. "Not really. You had cancer, you got better, end of story."

I shook my head. "It's not that simple. I-" I stopped. How could I possibly explain it all to Paul? I couldn't tell him about the depression; it would ruin everything between us.

"You what?" Paul persisted. "What are you hiding from me, Cat?"

"Nothing," I stuttered, but I couldn't meet his eyes.

"You're usually a better liar than this."

I froze. "Wait, what?"

"You usually put more effort into it. Like when you say, 'I'm fine', when you're obviously not, or when you pretend to be hungry, or when you say that you like the kind of music I listen to." Paul rolled his eyes at my shocked gaze. "You really thought I didn't notice these things? Cat, I'm your imprint. I let them go, because you obviously didn't want to talk about it, but I'm done being lied to. I deserve the truth."

I was floored. He had noticed all of these things? I thought I had been doing a good job of covering everything up, of keeping everyone fooled. "What else have you noticed?" I whispered.

Paul frowned at my evasion of his questions, but answered anyway. "You can't stand being still, a part of you always has to be moving. You're always tired, but you seem to dread sleep. It annoys you when Emily fusses over you, especially about eating more. You don't want to be treated differently, but you act different from every girl I've ever met." Paul hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was softer. "You're sad. Even when you're laughing, or acting happy, I can always see that gleam of sadness in your eyes. And I don't know why. The rest of the pack say they never notice it, and I'm afraid that it's me, and the idea of the imprint, that makes you this sad."

"No!" I protested quickly. "No, it's not you, really, this is all me."

Paul's mouth quirked up into the tiniest of smiles. "It's not you, it's me? This is sounding more like an awkward breakup than an explanation."

I sighed. "It's really hard to explain…"

Paul sat down on my bed and shrugged. "I've got time."

"It's not that simple!" I said for the second time in the past few minutes. "I can't just tell you everything!"

"Why not?"

"Because…because…" There had been so many logical reasons in my head. But now, staring into Paul's hopeful eyes, they had all fled my mind.

"Trust me," he pleaded gently. "Just this once, trust me."

And then it all came pouring out. How after my mother's death, I was diagnosed with minor depression. The doctor gave me pills, and everything seemed fine. There would be those rare times when I forgot to take the pills, and it would seem like all my emotions died away, but they passed quickly.

And then, when the cancer came, everything spiraled out of control. The pills were no longer strong enough, and I slowly but surely lost the will to live. I simply didn't have any reason to. There were stronger pills, and therapy, and eventually the symptoms of cancer were cured, but the depression remained. Only now I was fragile, easily broken. No, _already_ broken, damaged goods. And I could try to act fine, and Paul could try to make me better, but in the end that was all I could ever really be. Damaged goods.


	15. Old Scars

Chapter 14

Old Scars

"Where are we going?" Cat asked, a cute little pout on her face.

"I told you," I said, tearing my eyes away from her and focusing on the road again. "It's a surprise."

"But I don't like surprises," Cat whined.

"Everyone likes surprises."

"Not when they're bad surprises. Which, in my case, they usually are," Cat pointed out.

"Well then, you just haven't had enough good surprises," I said, tightening my grip on the wheel with anticipation. It had taken over a week to convince Cat to go somewhere with me. This time we simply decided to say that it wasn't a date and leave it at that. Well, Cat decided, and I went along with her so that she would agree to come.

"But how do I know this will be a good surprise?" she persisted, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair like a spoiled toddler.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Cat gave a short laugh and shook her head. "Because you've given me so many reasons to trust you when it comes to activities that _you_ choose."

"You flirt with _one_ waitress," I muttered under my breath, but Cat heard.

"Don't forget when you tried to take me on a hike," she added.

I had to resist throwing my hands up in the air; I had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate my hands off the wheel. "How was I supposed to know the squirrel would do that?"

"Squirrels are supposed to be cute!" Cat lamented. "I bet it's just your wolf genes; they've magically been released into the atmosphere and are turning fuzzy little animals into ferocious beasts."

"You keep on telling yourself that," I chortled. "How do you know your red hair didn't attract it?"

Cat rolled her eyes. "It was a _squirrel_, not a bull, Paul."

"And yet your wolf gene theory makes sense?"

"Everything I say makes sense, Paul. You should have learned that by now," Cat replied easily.

"I would like to point out that I'm probably the most knowledgeable person around, when it comes to you." And I was, now that I knew about the depression.

It made sense, when I thought about it. The way Cat's moods could change in an instant, that gleam of sadness that was always in her eyes, the bitter scent of medication that hung around her room; all of those things finally added up.

The depression should have been a game changer. I should have reacted the same way I had to the cancer, or even worse. But somehow, it barely meant anything. Nothing really changed. She was still Cat, still wild and unpredictable and inexplicably sad, only now there was a label for it. It was an awful label, one I still couldn't bear to say out loud, but only a label.

After the conversation, after she had said all of those horrible things about herself, I tried to tell her how wrong she was. How she could never be too broken for me, how she was still perfect despite everything. She hadn't believed me, I could tell, but thanked me all the same. I let it drop; it would mean more if I showed her how much she meant to me rather than told her. So I had decided to show her a bit of me in return. That was where the surprise trip came in.

"Paul?" Cat's voice drew me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? What? I was listening."

"Sure you were. I _said_, do you know how long the trip will take?"

"We'll be there in just a few minutes," I assured her.

Cat was silent for the rest of the car ride. I had to admit, I missed her chatter, even if I acted annoyed. There was something calming about the ceaseless drone. I could just relax into the rhythm of her voice, making the occasional comment when she paused.

As I turned the truck onto a dirt road, Cat leaned forward excitedly. "Are we here?"

"Yes," I laughed. "We're here. But you have to close your eyes. I'll help you out of the car."

Cat obediently closed her eyes, and I parked the tuck and walked around to her door. "Just hold on to my arm," I told her, guiding her onto the ground and towards the large collection of tents.

Cat took a deep sniff. "It smells like dust, and…what is that? Tobacco juice?"

I shrugged, forgetting that she couldn't see me. "I don't know. It always smells different here."

"Can I look yet?"

"Not yet."

"How about now?"

"Almost there."

"Now?"

"Just a second."

"N-"

"Open your eyes!" I interrupted, positioning her so that she could take in the view.

Her eyes flew open and she eagerly began to drink in the sights. Long rows of tents filled a large field, stretching for at least half a mile. Long tables were positioned in and around the tents, nearly buckling from the weight of hundreds of objects. Everything was sold there: old books, china, knick-knacks, toys, even some clothes. Only one thing united these objects, their age.

"Where are we?" Cat asked, turning around to take it all in.

"It's an auction." I said, grinning. "These things are sold by rows, and people bid on them. But I don't usually spend money on them. Usually, when people buy up a row of items, they leave behind a bunch of stuff they don't want. Then everyone can pick through it, and it's all free."

Cat smiled happily. "That's brilliant."

Together we entered the auction, walking towards the large crowd of people near the current row being bid on. "It's always good to walk a few rows behind the bidder," I explained. "That way we can be sure all of the wanted items have been collected."

Cat nodded eagerly, running towards a pile of half destroyed books and flipping through the pages. Just as I reached her she flitted of towards a pile of old rag dolls. Then came a half-completed tea set, old necklaces, a wooden jewelry box. I followed her dutifully, glancing occasionally at other items, but mostly focused on her.

"What do you think of this one?" Cat asked.

She was holding a small green pot about the size of my fist. There were raised designs encircling most of it, white pictures of Greek legends. One corner was almost entirely chipped off, and a large crack ran through the lid.

"I think it's a piece of junk," I replied.

"It's a pretty piece of junk," Cat persisted. "I love the designs, and I could use it to hold stuff."

"There's a giant crack in the middle of it!"

"It can sill hold stuff," Cat pointed out. "That's just a surface crack. It's the inner ones you have to look out for."

"Whatever," I sighed. "Grab it if you want, but you have to carry it."

Cat rolled her eyes. "I wasn't asking your _permission_. I just wanted to know if you liked it."

"Well what was the point of asking me? You obviously weren't going to let my answer affect your choice."

"Excuse me for trying to make conversation," Cat muttered.

"If you want conversation, we can take a break from picking through this trash and go over to the picnic tables."

Cat stood up and started walking towards tables. "Fine. If you think all of this stuff is so useless, why do you like coming here so much?"

I shrugged, sitting down on the top of one of the old tables and resting my legs on the bench. "It's not the stuff that I come here for. It's just…the feeling, I love old things."

Cat wrinkled her nose. "Why?"

"The past is stable," I explained, watching as her legs swung back and forth, smacking the picnic table with light thumps. "It doesn't change; it's safe. I had always liked that idea, but after I phased…I didn't have anything to hold on to _but_ the past. Sure, the pack is great, but most of them think that being a werewolf is fine. My parents tried to understand, but they have no idea what it's like."

Cat nodded understandingly. "I know about the parent thing. After my mom died, my dad just…disappeared. He was still there physically, but it was like he was a robot. All he ever did was respond to things that happened to him, instead of actually putting some effort into life. After the cancer, I couldn't bear to go back to a virtually empty house."

I growled in frustration. "Why does everything have to be so difficult? Life was going just fine before I phased. It wasn't perfect, but I was content. But now I can't be content, not when I think of what I could have had. How can I ever compare to being normal?"

Cat nodded, a distant look in her eyes. "I was content too. I mean, I had my friends to make up for my dad, and I was good in school, and...now none of that matters. Who cares about my grades, when I couldn't even finish high school? And I can't go back to my friends. I miss them like crazy, but I'm a different person now."

We were both silent for a while, and then Cat spoke again. "It's like metamorphosis. Here we are, creeping along like tiny little caterpillars. We're happy, because we don't know anything else. And then something big happens, something catastrophic. And all of a sudden we're something completely new. No going back, no 'healing' just this new life that we're forced to live. Only we don't get something as painless as becoming butterflies." Cat's voice had an underlying bitterness that I hated. She wasn't supposed to be like this, so cynical. I wanted her to be happy again.

"Maybe it get's better," I said. "It's gotten better, for me at least. I have you, now."

Cat turned to me, her smile seeming to fill her entire face. "That's probably the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Sitting there, grinning like crazy with her hair frizzing up every which way and a smudge of dirt on her forehead, she was the most beautiful person in the world. I wanted to show her how amazing she was, I _needed_ to show her. So I kissed her.

It was wonderful, for all of the three seconds that her lips were on mine. Then her eyes flew open again and she jerked away.

"Paul!"

"Yeah?"

"What was that?!" She was backing away from me.

"I believe it was a kiss," I said as mildly as I could. "You know, it's what happens when two people really like-"

"Stop it!" she interrupted. "This isn't funny! This isn't something you can just laugh away! I told you, I don't want a relationship right now…and you went and…and I actually…" She was panting heavily, her entire chest heaving.

I couldn't meet her eyes, so I glanced down at her trembling hands. Small red dots marched down her hand, almost unnoticeable. "What's wrong with your hands?"

"Don't try to change the subject! I told you, I'm not the kind of person you want to kiss!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Obviously you are, because I just wanted to kiss you…and I did."

"Stop it!"

"What's the big deal?" I demanded. "You're always acting so uptight, like you can't stand to get close to anyone! I know you, and I know I want to be with you."

"You know nothing about me," Cat spat. "You think you're so smart, but you know nothing! Yeah, I've put on a good show. I've broken down a minimum of times, and that's great. But I'm not okay. I'm not going to miraculously be cured of all my problems. "

I felt myself start to shake. "Then get over it!" I shouted, too mad to care when she flinched away from me. "You have problems, I get it. But I don't care! I'm willing to try to make something work, if you would only let me in. You say you're trying to protect me, but you're just hurting me more this way. You've been handling it fine so far!"

Cat's face broke, and for a second I was tempted to take it all back. Then her expression hardened and she narrowed her eyes. "Yeah? You think I can handle it? You think everything's going to be fine and we'll live happily ever after? Well it's not. Life doesn't have happy endings Paul. I'm not going to turn out fine."

"Why do you keep saying that?" I thundered. "You are fine. You're still Cat, and you've still got plenty of chances for a happy ending."

"No Paul, I don't," she snarled. "You want to see what happened to my happy ending? Take a look." She thrust her arms in my face viciously, and before I had a chance to say a word she ripped off the two red bandannas and threw them in my face. I stood there, frozen, staring at the two jagged scars on each wrist.

**Okay, I'm super sorry for the long wait. This chapter was giving me a lot of trouble, but I hope it's worth it. After this, things are going to speed up; we've reached the home stretch. As always, reviews are welcome. Thanks for reading! **


	16. Emily, We Have a Problem

Chapter 15

Emily, We Have a Problem

"Cat?" Emily's voice was full of worry. "Are you okay?"

I clutched my phone to my ear, glancing around at the trees that surrounded me. "Please take me home." My voice was as steady as I could make it.

"Where are you? What happened?"

"I'm…on the side of the road. Somewhere. We were at an auction, and…I'm somewhere near there. Emily, please."

"Cat, tell me what happened!"

I was silent for a few seconds. "Emily," I pleaded. "Please come get me. I promise, I- I'll explain everything later."

"Where's Paul?"

"I don't know," I said, rubbing my forehead.

"Did he leave you?"

"No."

"Then what-"

"Emily," I interrupted, letting some more of my desperation seep into my voice. "Please, just come."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," she said, and then the line went silent.

I leaned against a tree trunk and closed my eyes. I could still see his eyes, how the eager hope had turned to anger, resentment…

_Stop._ I told myself. It never did any good to think about it.Paul was wrong; the past wasn't stable or comforting. It was just a horrible reminder of the life I could have lived. I opened my eyes again, trying to distract myself. I had left that little green pot on the picnic table beside Paul. I wondered idly if he would throw it away. Probably. He hadn't seen the beauty in it.

It had started to lightly rain by the time Emily pulled up in Sam's old truck. I got in, my wet body squeaking against the cracked leather. "Sorry," I muttered, not meeting her eyes.

She locked the doors and started driving, glancing at me out of the corner of eye every few seconds. "Cat." Her voice was as soft as she could make it, like she expected me to explode any second. Well, seeing as she spent most of her time around werewolves, that wasn't too hard to believe. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, but my voice trembled and cracked at the end. "I just want to go home. I'm so tired, Emily." And I was, all of a sudden. Exhaustion hit without any warning, and the next thing I knew Emily was shaking me awake. We were parked outside of the house, and the rain had turned into a light mist.

I stumbled onto the ground; sleep still fogging my eyes. My head started pounding, and I nearly collapsed once we made it inside. Emily's eyes widened in alarm. "Are you okay?" This time she was concerned for more than my mental state.

"I'm just- just tired," I insisted, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Let me take your temperature," Emily persisted, bustling around until she could find a thermometer.

I obediently opened my mouth and let her stick the cold metal under my tongue. There was a beep, and Emily frowned. "You have a small fever. You should probably get some rest."

I nodded, and stumbled up to my room before falling on the bed. The pounding in my head had increased, and I was panting. Everything was wrong. I could feel my emotions spiking, like a thousand voices inside my head, screaming. I needed a pill. I needed…but it was almost a relief to be this way. Here was the other side of my depression, the side that I feared more than anything. Because as I lay there, with my emotions in utter turmoil and my thoughts slow and sluggish, I had an inkling of what it might be like to go insane.

It was an over-exaggeration. I always thought that after I recovered from mood swings like that. But at the moment, caught in the terrible heat, it was the most terrible thing in the world for me. I was crying, I realized vaguely. Tears dripped down my cheeks; my breath came out in short gasps. I tossed around on the bed, burying my face in the pillow. I just wanted to fall asleep, to forget about everything that happened.

I don't know when my wish was granted; all I knew was that the nightmares were worse than usual. It was odd; I hadn't taken a pill, and yet the nightmares remained.

I woke up, a scream swallowed in my throat. The room was dark; night had fallen some time while I slept. At least I could count on no hallucinations; those were purely a side effect of fake sleep. I lay in bed, staring at my wrists. They seemed to glow white in the darkness, with the scars glaring out in stark contrast.

The doctors had thought I was getting better. Most of the symptoms of cancer were gone, and the pills for depression seemed to be working. My therapist thought it would be a good idea for me to spend a night at home. I had been hopeful, thinking it might be a chance to talk to my father before I died. Because for all of the doctors' reassurances, I was still sure that my death was imminent.

Things were going fine until I tried to talk to him. He didn't answer. He just stared ahead blankly, like he couldn't even hear me. I screamed at him. I shouted and sobbed and begged, and he just blinked and asked me when I had gotten home. How school had been, if I had done my homework. I ran to my room, locking myself in, shouting through the door that I hated him. And the emotions were so terrible, pounding at my head so that I could hardly I think. Everything was so loud, and I needed a release so badly.

I don't know how he got in through the door. I don't know why he even bothered. Sometimes I wonder what he thought when he saw me lying on the floor, unconscious, with bright red staining the ground around me. All I know is that I woke up to bright lights and hospital rooms and worried doctors and needles in my arm. I was used to it; I didn't even realize that I was there for something different until I noticed the scars on my wrists. They asked if I really meant to kill myself. I told them I didn't know.

There was a lot more therapy after that, a lot more worry. But I got better, and soon the scars were just a reminder of what I must never do. I must never get too close to someone, because I would end up destroying them, and they would destroy me, and there would be no more second chances. I fell asleep thinking of that, rubbing the raised surface on my wrists and trying to erase Paul's face from my memories.

The next time I woke up it was morning. I rolled out of bed, putting on the first things I found in my drawers and walking into the bathroom. I looked absolutely awful. My brown roots were showing; I hadn't noticed before now. Heavy circles hung under my eyes, and the rest of my skin was chalky and pale. Bruises ran up and down my arms, I couldn't even remember how I got them. In the end I decided it wasn't worth trying to fix my appearance, and just went downstairs.

For once, the kitchen was empty of everyone except for Emily. She set a plate of eggs down on the table in front of me, scanning my face. "Are you feeling okay, Cat?"

I nodded. "I'm fine." The headache had gone away, at least.

"Let me get your temperature again before you eat," she said, and I nodded my agreement.

We repeated the process from last night. "You still have a small fever," Emily said, frowning. "Try to eat something."

I turned towards the plate of food, and had to resist throwing up. "I don't think I'm hungry."

"You have to eat something, Cat."

I poked at a piece of egg, but couldn't bring myself to put it in my mouth. I pushed my plate away and tried not to look at the food. My hands twisted around each other, as if I were having a thumb war with myself. Suddenly I froze. My hands. There was something on my hands. I lifted one to eye level, praying that I was mistaken. But there they were, tiny red spots.

I recognized them, of course I did. And it all made sense. The fever, the exhaustion, the bruises that I couldn't explain. I had been blind not to recognize it before. "Emily." My voice came out strangled, like I was choking on the words. "We have a problem."


	17. So Sorry

Chapter 16

So Sorry

I winced as hot water ran over my hand, turning red as the blood mixed with it. Small shards of green pottery emerged through the blood, and I dug them out of my hand with a grunt. The shredded skin was already beginning to heal, only hindered by the remaining pieces of Cat's clay pot. Who knew that pottery could be so dangerous?

The last shard came out of my hand with a sickening squelch, and it finally began to heal for good. On the one hand, I was glad that my hand was no longer on fire with pain. On the other, I no longer had something to distract me. At least with the pot I didn't have to think about Cat. Think about the reason I had squeezed the pot until it exploded in my hand, about what those scars on her wrists meant.

I was so slow sometimes. Frozen, useless in the moments that really mattered. Just like when she revealed her cancer; I was paralyzed. My mind just wouldn't work fast enough, nothing would process. And I had let her go. I thought she would go back to my truck. I thought that I would have time to absorb everything, because where else could she go? But by the time I made it there, she was long gone, and her scent ended somewhere on the highway.

When I called, Emily said that she had picked Cat up, but refused to answer anymore of my questions. That was when the broken pot came in. I drove home, cussing and trying not to bleed too much on the steering wheel, and stormed to the sink. Neither of my parents were home; they had a business trip, so I didn't have to explain my foul mood to anyone.

I wanted to go straight over to Emily's, but previous experience with Cat foretold that that would end badly. She needed time to cool off, as did I. I would wait until tomorrow, and then call her. Then, if she seemed to be in a better mood, I would come over.

In theory, it was a good plan. But tomorrow was such a long way off, and I couldn't find something to distract me from thinking of her. Was she at home? Was she thinking of me? What if she was waiting for me to call her? What if she thought I had abandoned her?

I was dialing her number before I was fully aware of what I was doing. It rang for a few minutes, and then I heard Cat's voice. But it was wrong, too cheery and metallic, and in a few seconds I realized it was a recording.

"_Hi, this is Catherine. I'm not here right-"_ I snapped my phone shut before her voice could continue. It felt like she was mocking me. She sounded so happy on the phone, which only drove home the fact that she was probably crying right now. Because of me. Because of the things I said, and the things she did, and the way we seemed to bring out the best and worst in each other.

I don't really know what I did after that. I'm sure that I ate dinner, and went to bed, but I can't remember any of it. All I remember is that horrible ache, the absence of Cat and the knowledge that I had a role in driving her away.

The next morning I waited until after breakfast before calling. "_Hi, this is Catherine. I'm not here right now, so leave a message and I'll try to call you back. Either that, or I'm ignoring you, in which case you should stop wasting your time. If this is a medical-"_

I shut the phone with a growl. She was ignoring me. She didn't want to talk to me. She needed time. Maybe she was doing something else. Maybe she was in another room. Maybe she hadn't made it to the phone in time. Maybe I should all again. "_Hi, this is Ca-"_

Okay, maybe she was all the way across the house. She had yet to reach the phone. Or she hadn't heard it ringing, in which case it would probably be best if I called again, just to make sure. "_Hi, this_-_"_

After that I paced around the room for as long as I could stand. I'm pretty sure I managed to wear a permanent rut in my bedroom floor. Then the phone was in my hands and her voice was echoing through the room again.

"_Hi, this is Catherine. I'm not here right now, so leave a message and I'll try to call you back. Either that, or I'm ignoring you, in which case you should stop wasting your time. If this is a medical call, please press 1."_ She sounded tired as she said that last sentence, resigned.

"_If this is my Dad, press 2."_ Her voice was bitter when she said the next sentence, as if she never expected it to happen.

"_If you're an old school friend, press 3_." At this point she was just plain sad. I wondered vaguely whether anyone ever called for that. Did Cat ever talk to any of her old friends? Or had she run away from them too?

There was a beep; I could leave a message. Maybe she would listen, see how sorry I was, forgive me.

I cleared my throat. "Um, hey. It's Paul. I'm sorry for…everything." I paused. There had to be more to say, apologizing to girls was never that simple. Of course, I had never really apologized to anyone. "I shouldn't have said those- those things. That I said. And, uh, you know. I'm sorry." I cursed under my breath and shut the phone. I had probably messed everything up, just like always.

Time passed in awful bursts and sputters, speeding along and then jolting to a halt whenever something reminded me of her. Days passed, with ceaseless calls and the recorded message that I was beginning to hate. In the end I couldn't stand it anymore.

I drove without thinking until I was at Emily's house. Cat's house. What used to be, in a way, my house.

I was knocking on the door, pounding, really. Over and over, as if I could break it down to reach her.

"Shut up!" Someone yelled, probably Leah.

I ignored her, knocking and knocking and knocking and- The door swung open, revealing a furious Leah. "Could you stop," she spat at me, "that awful knocking?"

"I want to see Cat."

Leah paused, and then the most horrible expression came over her face. It was a look of pity. "You can't see her," she said softly.

"Let me in," I said again.

"She's not here."

I closed my eyes briefly. "Please." My voice cracked. "Please, let me see her."

"I can't," Leah said, that awful look of pity still on her face. "I'm sorry, Paul, she's not here."

I was starting to shake, shudders racking my body. "Then where is she?" I growled, secretly hoping that Leah would loose her temper with me. If she was shouting at me, at least one thing would be normal.

"I can't tell you."

"I need to see her!" I was shouting. Why couldn't Leah just understand? I needed to know where Cat was. I had to go to her, apologize, do whatever would stop this awful ache in my chest.

Leah shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, truly I am. But I can't tell you."

And then I was screaming at her. Insults, curses, anything that could make her see. But she didn't phase, she didn't even look that angry. That was the worst part. If Leah, of all people, was being nice to me, something was horribly wrong. I turned and ran back to the truck, driving back home and away from her as fast as I could.

Everything was wrong. I needed something to anchor me, to keep me steady. I needed to hear Cat's voice, even if it was just through a machine. I dialed her number slowly, holding the phone close to my ear and closing my eyes when she began to speak. It was the same as always. That happiness, that seemed to have an underlying sadness in it. Maybe it was just me, my own hurt bleeding through, but I could swear she was unhappy even in the message.

"…_If you're an old school friend, press 3. If you're Paul, press 4."_ I froze. Did I really just hear that? The phone beeped, and I quickly redialed. "_Hi, this is Catherine. I'm not here right now, so leave a message and I'll try to call you back. Either that, or I'm ignoring you, in which case you should stop wasting your time. If this is a medical call, please press 1. If this is my dad, press 2. If you're an old school friend, press 3. If this is Paul, press 4." _

I pressed 4 with a trembling finger and clutched the phone to my ear. "_Hey Paul,"_ Her voice sounded tired and broken. "_I guess you must be pretty desperate by now if you waited all the way to the end of the message. That's why I put it at the end. So, just so you know, I'm not avoiding you on purpose. I…the…oh I'm not sure how to say this."_ The phone was silent for a few seconds, and then she blurted out her next sentence so fast I could barely hear it. "_The cancer's back_."

The phone fell from my hands and clattered to the floor. I stared at it for a few seconds then snatched it up again. The phone was silent for a few more moments, and then she started again. "_I figured you might need a second. I'm really sorry you had to find out this way. I was hoping it was just my imagination, but it's been confirmed. Please don't come to the hospital. I don't want you to see me like this. The thing is, I'm not sure if the chemotherapy will work this time. I don't want you to see me on the edge of death, so wait a bit. If I get better, if it seems to be working, I'll ask Emily to tell you. And if it doesn't, I'll do the same. I'm really sorry that it has to be this way. I never should have gotten so close to you. Oh gosh, I've messed everything up. But, before I go, I have one final request. Is that allowed? I mean, you've never really listened to me before, but maybe you will this time. Don't do anything stupid."_

Her voice broke, and for a second all I could hear was her heavy breathing. "_Don't go crazy if this goes wrong. Do that for me, please. Don't make me responsible for ruining your life even more. And, I love you, Paul. I've loved you ever since I first looked into your eyes, and it's only gotten stronger. I'm so sorry, for everything. Goodbye, Paul."_

I was frozen, unable to do anything but stare at the phone as Cat's voice ran through my mind. _Cancer's back, so sorry, never should've gotten close, so sorry, I love you, so sorry so sorry so sorry…_

And suddenly I was running, out the door, away from the house, away from her. I didn't even remember phasing, but as I ran I sank deeper and deeper into the wolf until the boy named Paul was only a distant memory.

**Alright, from now on things are going to be a bit weird. The chapters will be a lot shorter, but I'll be posting twice a week. All of the ones from Cat's point of view for the next few weeks will just be her memories. As always, thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed.**


	18. Silver and Gold

Chapter 17

Silver and Gold

When I was in kindergarten, we used to always sing a little rhyme about friendship. "Make new friends and keep the old; one is silver and another's gold. A circle's round and never ends; that's how long I want to be your friend." It was a wonderful concept in theory, but didn't translate over into real life.

After the cancer, my old friends were distanced from me. It wasn't a conscious decision; they just didn't know how to act around me anymore. There were still words of comfort and cards and emails, but something had been lost. In turn, I gained the friendship of Marcy.

Apparently, Marcy was pretty before it happened. I had seen pictures, and she did look good. Her black hair had been shiny, cutting off at her cheek and framing her bright green eyes perfectly. She had been full of life. She had been an artist, taking gifted classes at her school. She had a steady boyfriend, and they made the perfect artsy couple. She had been happy.

The Marcy I knew was another person entirely. Her hair was gone; she didn't bother to wear a wig. Her cheeks were bloated from treatment; her eyes had lost their sparkle long ago. What little art she did was gothic, skulls and blades and everything else inside her messed up head. She couldn't stand people's company; their silly problems irked her. She snapped at you if you disagreed with her. She was impulsive and a bit selfish, and had driven off most of her friends from before. She was my very best friend.

I'm not sure why she chose me. Maybe it was because I had some idea of what it was like to loose everything. Maybe it was because my depression enabled me to understand her like no one else could.

The doctors thought it would be good for us to have friends to talk to and rely on, so we were together every chance we got. We would tire of each other after about 45 minutes every time, but it didn't make much of a difference. Better that we were screaming at each other than the nurses who were trying to work.

I never really thought that the children's rhyme was fair anyway. Gold seemed better than silver, so why did I have to rank my friends? But in the end I decided that each friend was both gold and silver. They were all the best and the worst.

My old friends related to me well. They laughed with me, cried with me, and saw me through most of life's landmark events. But some of that connection was lost through the cancer. Marcy understood what I was going through, and could make me laugh with her dark sense of humor. But we always fought, and just as she kept my depression away, she fueled it through her words of anger. They were all good and bad for me. That was all anyone really was: silver and gold.

**Okay, I know this is really short, but as I said, from now on I'll be updating twice a week. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed. Since we're nearing the end, I'd really like to hear from you. What parts of the story could I improve on? What were those little scenes or details that irked you? As always, thanks for reading.**


	19. Not a Coward

Chapter 18

Not a Coward

Being a wolf was easy. I had resented it the first time I ever phased, but it was a good escape from the complications of human life. Wolves didn't worry about whether their not-quite-girlfriend hated them or was going to die; they only cared about hunting their next meal and surviving.

When I was a wolf, I could be alone. It was just me, the trees, and the animals I hunted. No one could talk to me; no one who could make me feel guilty or make me question what I was doing. I was free.

I hadn't been keeping track of the days. Time had passed, and I had slept once or twice, but that wasn't any real indication as to how long it had been. Sometimes when the others were phased, they tried to talk to me, but I could usually ignore them. They had more important things to deal with than a moody rogue wolf.

At the moment, I had just finished a meal. I had been stalking the deer for days, even though it would have been easier to just attack. I wanted to draw things out, to make my distraction last even longer. Suddenly, there was another presence. It took me a few seconds to recognize Jacob's mind.

_Paul._

I tried to ignore him, but he was insistent. _Paul, I know you can hear me. You need to stop being so stupid and come home._

If I were human, I would have laughed. _Yeah, because I so want to be in your wonderful company again._

Jacob ignored my sarcasm. _Come back, come back for Cat._

_Why should I?_ I snarled in my mind. _What good will it do?_

_Why_?! Jacob's mental voice was disbelieving. _Because she's worried about you, you idiot! She's supposed to be in a relaxing environment, and not even knowing where you are isn't exactly doing much to calm her nerves!_

I growled out loud, startling a few birds into flight. _Well, why did you tell her? She hasn't even talked to me since before she found out about it, so she would never have known the difference! She could be blissfully oblivious!_

_ It wasn't _me_ that told her. You know that Sam tells Emily everything, and Emily thought that Cat would want to know._

_ It doesn't matter what she would want to know; it matters what she _should _know. And this doesn't fall into that category. This is just causing her needless stress._

_ Exactly,_ Jacob thought, sounding smug. _So come back._

I tried to block my thoughts, but Jacob saw right through me. _You're scared!_ He exclaimed. _You don't want to see her, because that would make the cancer real. Quit acting so stupid Paul!_

I snapped my teeth at empty air, wishing that Jacob were closer so that I could attack him and block out his accusing thoughts. _Shut up. I'm not scared. I just…I can't go back…I mean…Jacob, she's…_

Jacob understood, but he was not sympathetic. _That's stupid. You're being a coward._

_ I am not a coward!_ I was saying it to myself more than him. _I'm not scared of anything. Not vampires, not you, and definitely not some stupid disease that thinks it can take her away from me!_

_ Prove it._ Jacob's thoughts were a challenge. _You're all talk, Paul, and that's all you'll ever be unless you come back and face this._

_ I am not a coward!_ Jacob was gone, and I was thinking to no one, but I didn't care. I was not a coward. I was not a coward. I was _not_ a coward.

And then I was running. But I wasn't running away, not any more. I was done running away. Instead, my feet carried me to where I was most needed, to Cat. No more running, no more cowardice.

I don't know how long I ran. The sun was high in the sky by the time I was back in La Push. I wanted to go straight to the hospital, but had a feeling they wouldn't welcome a naked boy who looked like he had rolled around on a forest floor. Finally, after the quickest shower possible and a change of clothes, I drove to the hospital and entered the waiting room.

A nurse walked over to me, sparing me a glance over her clipboard. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Catherine Young," I said steadily, looking her in the eye.

"Are you family?" The nurse asked, sounding bored.

"Yes." I lied without a second thought.

She looked at me skeptically, and then turned around. "Alright, I'll tell her you're here, but it's up to her if you can see her or not. What's your name?"

"Paul."

The nurse walked away, and I began to pace around the waiting room. What if Cat was still mad? What if I had hurt her? What if she was asleep? I might be interrupting much needed rest. Maybe the nurse knew that I wasn't family, and had just been trying to leave me.

After about five minutes of agonizing waiting, the nurse returned. "I'm sorry, but Miss Young isn't taking visitors right now."

My shoulders slumped. She didn't want to see me. She probably hated me. She probably despised me for running away. It would be easier to just leave, and see if she changed her mind. I turned to go, and then froze.

It had been easier to run away, to not think about all of the hurt. But it hadn't been better. Cat needed me. She needed to be strong, and to be hopeful, even when she wasn't. I couldn't give up on her, not this time. I squared my shoulders and turned back to the nurse. I was not a coward.


	20. Impossible Love

Chapter 19

Impossible Love

Emily had known about my cancer, but she hadn't visited before. I later learned it was because she was busy being imprinted on and accidentally betraying her best friend/cousin, but at the time it just seemed like she had her own life to live.

After I attempted suicide, my flow of visitors greatly increased, mostly consisting of worried relatives and shocked friends. I hadn't wanted to see any of them, and after a half hour of awkward silence, they usually left. But Emily was different. She sat by my hospital bed, looking out at the setting sun. All of the doctors had left, and it was just us. This time the silence had a comfortable air about it. I almost enjoyed her company.

Then she started talking. I didn't want to listen, but Emily had the kind of voice that you couldn't help but absorb. She told me about how Leah's boyfriend had disappeared for weeks. He finally came back, but he was changed, almost beyond recognition. Leah tried to find out what had happened, but he was distant. And then he saw Emily, and everything changed.

She told me about the wolves. It was an impossible story, but I had nothing to loose in believing. Fairy tales that were almost as sad as my own life had a certain comfort in them. She told me about how she fought it at first. She didn't want to betray Leah, but the pull towards Sam was impossible to ignore.

I learned how he scarred her; how her perfect face was marred forever. And he loved her anyway, no matter what was wrong with her. It was an impossible and wonderful notion, having someone love you no matter what. All of it, the wolves, the imprinting, the impossible love, told of a universe so much bigger than I had known.

Emily went back to La Push, but her stories stayed with me. Those stories kept me alive. They had a hope in them, even if it wasn't a hope that belonged to me. My condition improved, and the therapists said I was beginning to see the point of life again. Not necessarily true. I was beginning to see the point of others' lives, and I wanted to see more of them.

I didn't just come to La Push to get away from everything. I didn't even come just to see my cousin again. I came for the wolves. Those impossible, wonderful wolves that proved me wrong whenever I thought life was hopeless. And maybe, just maybe, I came because I dreamed of a love like Sam and Emily's. Of a love that would endure no matter how scarred I was, on the inside and out. A love that could belong to me, too.


	21. I'll Huff and I'll Puff

Chapter 20

I'll Huff and I'll Puff

After 15 minutes of arguing with the nurse, 10 minutes of trying to find the elevator, and 20 minutes of trying to hide the elevator buttons I crushed because of my impatience, I finally made it to the waiting room outside of Cat's ward.

An old man sat in the corner, reading a magazine and coughing every few seconds. Two middle-aged women huddled together, talking in hushed tones and glancing towards a door to a ward every few seconds. Emily sat right in the middle of the room, flipping through a tattered book.

Everyone looked up as I cleared my throat to make myself known, but only Emily stayed focused on me. "Paul? What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Cat."

Emily hesitated, her eyes darting around for a way out. "Didn't the nurse tell you? Cat- Cat isn't taking visitors as the moment."

"I need to see her," I pleaded.

Emily sighed and shook her head. "You can't just go in there without her permission. Wait out here a bit; maybe she'll change her mind."

We both knew that wasn't likely, but it was the only option I had. I settled into one of the dark red seats beside her, putting my head in my hands. I had to find a way to get to Cat.

Think, think, think. What did Cat like? She liked beaches, and tidal pools, and sunsets. She liked early morning walks, blueberries, and dogs. She liked…she liked…writing! Cat loved writing. And poems! If I could write Cat a poem, she would have to forgive me!

"Emily!" I nearly shouted. "I need a piece of paper and a pen."

Emily gave me a strange look, but dug around in her purse until she pulled out a small spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen. "You can tear out paper from here; I'm done with it."

I immediately began to scribble down words. Unfortunately, writing a poem was a bit harder than I expected. There had to be rhythm, and rhyme, and what on earth rhymed with cancer?

It took me a good 30 minutes and about 50 crumpled up papers, but finally I held up a small sheet of paper in success. It was perfect; sweet and simple.

_My dearest Cat,_

_I wait for you._

_You may be sick,_

_But I'll be true._

_My rhymes aren't great,_

_But my meaning's clear._

_If you ever need me,_

_I'll be here._

_(But it would be even better if you just let me come in.)_

"I need you to give this to Cat," I told Emily, stuffing it into her hand. "Please," I said as she opened her mouth to protest. "I need this."

She hesitated for a moment longer, and then nodded. She disappeared into Cat's room, and I began to pace. What if I was wrong? What if Cat hated the poem? What if she hated me? What if-

Emily entered the waiting room again. I turned to her hopefully, but she just handed me a folded piece of paper. I opened and smoothed it out with trembling fingers, scanning the shaky handwriting.

_Your writing skills leave something to be desired._

_But the very fact that you conspired_

_With the very helpful Emily,_

_To compose a poem and message for me,_

_Is a nice gesture; that I cannot deny._

_But what I'd like to know, is why?_

I sighed and began to write again. I should have known that Cat wouldn't just accept the poem and let me in. She always saw things as far more complex than they really were. Was it too much to believe that I loved her?

_It's really not that complicated;_

_I think you can keep up._

_I love and want to see you,_

_So what's with the holdup?_

I handed the piece of paper to Emily. She gave me a small frown, but carried it to Cat. I waited, resisting the urge to pace again. I had to remain calm; I had to show Cat that I could be reasonable.

Emily returned a moment later, and I leaped out of my seat and snatched the note from her.

_I know I should let you in,_

_Before you start complaining._

_But your attempts at poetry,_

_Are rather entertaining._

I growled under my breath. Oh great, now Cat was getting a kick out of this! There went my serious and thoughtful gesture.

_You're hesitation,_

_I deplore. _

_So I'll huff, and I'll puff,_

_And I'll break down your door._

_I know how,_

_That story ends._

_But in real life,_

_The wolf always wins. _

I tried to hand the note to Emily, but she shook her head. "You know, I'm not some sort of supernatural mailman!" she complained.

"Of course not," I said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You're a supernatural mail_woman_."

Emily's frown deepened, and I quickly backtracked. "Please, Emily. I have to talk to her, and this is the only way I can right now."

Emily's expression softened, and she accepted the note and brought it to Cat. The wait was longer this time, but at last she came back with Cat's poem.

_Fire beats wolf,_

_Every single time._

_And I'm sure you don't forget,_

_That red hair of mine._

_Your efforts are sweet,_

_That I concede._

_Poetry and great literature,_

_Are a mighty combination indeed._

_You are devoted,_

_But I am sick._

_Let this be my warning;_

_Enter at your own risk._

My heart jumped into my throat. She had said yes. _She had said yes!_ I was finally going to see Cat.

**Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed this story.**


	22. A Stronger Wolf

Chapter 21

A Stronger Wolf

Doors were constantly opening and closing in the hospital. Doctors, nurses, visitors, new patients- you name it. I had stopped caring who came through the doors years ago. Half the time it had nothing to do with me, and even when it did I usually wasn't interested. I couldn't remember the last time I had anticipated a hospital door opening. Yet here I was, leaning forward eagerly from my bed, my emotions spinning around in my head so fast that I couldn't quite tell how I felt about Paul coming.

And then the door was opening, and he peered through his over-grown hair at me. Drops of water were still clinging to his hair and face, and I wondered vaguely if it was raining outside. He wasn't wearing any socks under his shoes, and his shirt was on backwards. I kept on studying him, trying to focus on his appearance. It hurt too much to think about what him being here meant.

But I had missed him. Oh, I had missed him so much. It seemed like I was thinking about him every waking second; wondering, worrying, wishing. Everywhere I looked, I was reminded of him. And I didn't have time to sink deeper into the depression or fade out of life, because those little things would always pull me back. He had saved me, without even realizing it.

Paul was still staring at me. Suddenly I was aware of how awful I must look. The treatment had hardly started, and already my body was looking worse for wear. He was probably regretting coming. He couldn't find any words to describe how terrible I looked. He was disgusted.

"Say something," I begged, my voice cracking at the end. "Please, please just say something."

"You are the most beautiful person on Earth."

I couldn't help but laugh a little, but it turned into a cough. "Liar. I'm hideous."

"Not to me." He sounded so serious, staring into my eyes as if willing me to understand.

"That's the imprint talking."

"That's _me_ talking. I love you. And maybe the imprint gave me the chance to love you, but this is all me. With every ounce of my being, no matter what, I will always love you."

I wanted to cry. He was being so nice, making the fact that I couldn't have him hurt even more. "Paul, this is wrong. I'm all wrong for you. All I ever do is drag you down."

He laughed. He actually _laughed_ at me. "Are you kidding? Or has the chemotherapy gone to your head? You're everything I need. This is just stupid; you not accepting it. Stop being so melodramatic and just accept that."

I bit my lip. It would be so easy just to accept what he was saying. But life was never easy, I had learned that the hard way. Life was never easy…except when I was with Paul. When I was with him, all of my worries seemed to melt away. My problems still existed, but he made them all seem insignificant.

Still, there was one big problem.

"Paul, this is the second time I've had chemotherapy. What are the chances of me being able to have a child? They were low before, now they're next to nothing. That's the whole point of an imprint, and I can't do that for you," I said.

Paul shook his head. "No, I won't accept that. Sam thinks that imprinting is supposed to make stronger wolves. And I know we've always assumed that means children, but that doesn't mean it has to be.

"You've made _me_ a stronger wolf. I'm someone new, thanks to you. And I'm so grateful for that. You have no idea. I don't care about depression, or cancer, or anything that tries to get in the way.

"As long as you want me, I'll be here. And if you truly don't want me here, I'll leave. Whatever is best for you." He paused, taking a deep breath. "So let's hear it. Can I stay?"

**Okay, the story is practically over. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow, because it will be very short, and the epilogue will come on Sunday. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, and especially thanks to those who reviewed. **


	23. Perfectly Damaged

Chapter 22

Perfectly Damaged

"As long as you want me, I'll be here," I told her, staring into Cat's eyes. She needed to know that I would never run away from her again. I had made my choice, and now everything depended on hers. "So let's hear it. Can I stay?"

She bit her lip, thinking. I tried to take deep breaths. In, out, in, out. I couldn't rush her. This was a decision that would affect her monumentally. She needed time to think. Whatever I did, I could not rush- "Well? What's your answer?"

The question was out before I could stop it. I winced and closed my eyes again. I had blown it! One of the most important decisions in both of our lives, and I had demanded an answer before she was ready.

There was a weak chuckle, and my eyes flew open again. Cat was smiling! She was actually smiling, not frowning or scowling or demanding that I get out.

"I guess I kind of need you," she said through her laughter. "Otherwise, I might spend all of my time debating things."

I smiled uncertainly. "So, is that a yes?"

"No, I'm rejecting you heartlessly. Of course it's a yes!"

I still hesitated. "Are- are you sure?"

Cat raised a single eyebrow. "Are you _trying_ to make me change my mind?"

I knew that she was right. I should be happy that she had said yes, not questioning it. But I had to know. "I need you to be absolutely sure. I don't want this to be something that I rushed you into. I need to know that this is your choice."

Cat smiled. "Paul, there never really was a choice. I could try to push you away, but in the end, you're the only one I want. I just needed you to help me see that."

And then we were kissing, and it was wonderful, and perfect, and everything that our first kiss should have been. And we sat there, both of us damaged in the most perfect way.

**I can't believe it! This is the last real chapter. The epilogue will be up some time this Sunday, along with some extra information about the story and several new ideas I'm thinking of writing. Thanks to everyone who's been reading this, you guys are the best. I'd really like to make 100 reviews, so it would be awesome if you could leave one last review.**


	24. Epilogue

**This chapter is dedicated to All-Smiles 1234, who stuck with me from the very beginning, and whom I can always count on to give a wonderful review.**

Epilogue

Paul

I'm late. My watch seems to be ticking louder than usual, as if to remind me of that. I was supposed to pick her up at 5:00 sharp, and it's already 5:04. If the rest of the pack were here, they would laugh at me for being so freaked out about it, but I don't care. I was supposed to be there at 5:00. I had promised.

As I enter the hospital, nurses and doctors nod to me in greeting. I've become a regular visitor, and I know most of them by name now. They think my devotion is cute, something to be laughed at. They've obviously never experienced an imprint.

I have to press the button on the elevator with my elbow, hoping that I manage to hit the right one. One hand clutches a bouquet of slightly wilted roses, and the other has a stack of cards from friends and family. I've brought her a card too, but mine is with the flowers.

I make my way through the familiar waiting room and push open the door to Cat's ward. She's sitting up in her bed, flipping through even more cards. I can tell by her smile that this is going to be one of the good days.

"Hey." She still sounds soft, slightly unsure, as if she can't quite bring herself to believe I'm real.

"Happy birthday," I say, bending down and kissing her on the cheek. "I've got some cards from the pack, and I brought you flowers."

I set the cards down on her bed while Cat takes the flowers from me. She takes a deep sniff from one, and her smile widens. "These are lovely, Paul. I'll have to ask one of the nurses for a vase."

We talk about little things: how her day has been, the gifts she's received, my new truck. The whole time I finger the small box in my back pocket. It's not a ring, not yet; I promised Sam and Emily that I would wait until Cat was out of the hospital before I thought about that. But the glittering necklace will serve as a reminder of my devotion.

I love her. There's no question, no doubt. Sure, there are bad days, days when she looks at me without seeing and refuses to talk. But the good days, those wonderful days where it's so easy to forget that she's sick, they make up for everything.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I would have let those bad days overpower me. I would have given up after that fight where we screamed so loudly the doctors asked me to leave. But now, I can't imagine ever leaving her.

Cat was wrong about one thing, though. We aren't butterflies. There isn't one big change, and then we're something new. We're constantly changing, constantly evolving. We can never escape the change, but that's not the point. The point is finding something better.

**Here we are, at the end of this story. It's been a huge adventure, and I'd like to thank everyone who read the story, followed it, favorited it, and a special thanks to all those who reviewed. Below I'll have some extra info on the story, as well as other ideas I might be writing.**

**This story's theme song is "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz, and if you haven't listened to it, I recommend you do so. Other songs I listened to while writing are "Begin Again" by Taylor Swift, "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry, and "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. If you haven't guessed it yet, I'm in to Country. ;)**

**I will probably go back and revise previous chapters, although it will mainly just be grammatical.**

**Besides revising, I'm going to take a small break from fanfiction, mainly to focus on original works in progress. However, I'll still be thinking about some ideas. At the moment, I'm trying to decide between:**

**LeahxOC- This won't be an imprint story, but will include Leah and a vampire.**

**EmbryxOC- This will be a sort of spin on Romeo and Juliet, using several of the plotlines, although it most likely won't be a tragedy. **

**Feel free to vote on which I should focus on.**

**Once again, thanks to everyone who has read this story. **


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